


Nothing Left to Lose

by SheyRicci



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheyRicci/pseuds/SheyRicci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's fed up with Dean's attitude. Dean's fed up with Sam's mood swings. And it was Dean who got hurt on a hunt, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There was a time when Sam enjoyed driving. Loved to get behind the wheel of a car, roll the window down, tune the radio to a station playing music he found relaxing and head in no particular direction. Drive until he found a place to stop and get a cup of coffee or an ice cream cone and find a spot where he could pull over and enjoy the solitude and scenery.

Not any longer, now driving was an action he only did when exhaustion or pain was too great for his brother to overcome and it was left to him to get them to their next destination. He always accepted with good grace, the keys when tossed at him because it was high on the list of the many things he couldn't share with Dean without fear of his brother’s reaction. A list, that whenever one or more item came to light, resulted in an argument like the one they'd had that morning.

He glanced into the side view mirror; lights from cars in the lane behind him illuminated the interior of the car and seemed to reflect brighter than usual, causing him to squint. It was giving him one hell of a headache, though he supposed, if he would but admit it, stress and tension were most likely the cause of his discomfort.

It was dark, just after seven and he intended to drive for several more hours. He wanted to put as much time and distance between him and the last town he'd all but fled with this tail between his legs as he could before either his increasing headache or exhaustion forced him off the road for the night. He didn't like to run from a fight, to allow himself to be chased out of town, to admit defeat and flee, but when there wasn't a choice, he ran. He allowed his eyes to slant sideways to the empty seat beside him and clenched his teeth to keep the sigh from escaping his lips.

It was raining and the steady ping against the roof of the car was not soothing, it was stressful and added to his anxiety. The fog and overspray on the road from passing cars forced him to drive slower than he would like. It was getting colder out and while the car's heater worked, Sam didn't feel warm, felt he'd never be warm again. The cold chill that seeped into his bones was not caused by the temperature of the weather and no amount of heat or layers of clothes was going to chase the coldness away.

He pulled his eyes from the empty space next to him and forced himself to focus on the road. He should be concentrating on his driving, he needed to be, but his mind kept straying, replaying that morning’s event over and over in his mind. The day couldn't have gone worse, had ended badly and likely, would carry on for the next several days.

The hunt had gone wrong, the intel had been bad and the entire situation had blown up in his face, officially declaring the day, gone-to-shit. Dean hadn't listened to him, hadn't listened to reason, had forged carelessly ahead and been taken out. Sam had been scared, so scared all he had been able to show was anger, anger that had only served to set Dean off. Words had been said, accusations thrown and Sam still felt the rejection and condemnation. Unlike Dean, he needed distance and time, not violence and alcohol.

" _Damn you Dean, what the hell was that?" Sam panted, running down the alley and rounding the corner to find his brother sprawled on his back on the ground. "Shit!"_

" _Thought you said one spirit Sammy." he rolled onto his side, choking on a groan. "OW!" panting, he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. "I'm good."_

" _What did you do?" Sam bit out. "I can't do this again Dean, I can't!  What the hell did you think you were doing? Is that your game now, go it alone?"_

" _Aww, Sammy, chill dude." Dean had picked himself up of the ground and was now stumbling around, trying to gain his balance. "Couldn't wait all day you know."_

" _Two spirits Dean, you take on two at one time, that's just crazy."_

_"Didn't know there were two. You did the research, don't you think you shudda known that?"_

" _So, it's my fault you went all kamikaze?"_

" _What? No!"_

" _Then what the hell are you saying? Thought I told you to wait for me. Christ!"_

" _I don't take orders well." he was steady on his feet now but remained doubled over._

" _Since when are you stupid? Do you have any idea how reckless this was?"_

" _Eh, nothing to lose, you know?"_

" _No, I don't know and from where I'm standing, there's a lot that could be lost."_

" _Don't be so sensitive Sammy." he staggered down the alley, back towards the road and away from his brother who could do nothing but stare after him._

He was tired of being an obligation, a duty, didn't want the only reason he mattered to Dean to be because of some promise. He didn't want to be a reason, he wanted his thoughts and beliefs to be trusted and honored. He wanted to be seen as a person, an equal, a responsible adult, not someone's job. He was tired of having his feelings and insecurities and fears dismissed. Dean would always be there, would always respond but Sam needed to know it was because Dean _wanted_ to, not because Dean viewed it as an accomplishment well done.

Heavier rain forced him to switch the wipers on high and turn up the defrost. The weather was getting worse and he was beginning to think it might not be such a bad idea to find a motel. He'd planned on trying to drive on to Wyoming where Jack, another hunter they'd worked with on occasion, waited for back-up before heading into the woods to track what appeared to be a Wendigo. There was no hurry, he'd just wanted to get to the next job and forget the last one.

He felt himself shivering, turning the collar of his jacket up did nothing to stop the chills shooting down the back of his neck and suddenly it was all too much. The bad hunt, the bad info, the argument, well arguments, with Dean, the reason they'd had it out, the weather, the drive, everything was overwhelming, and now some stupid jerk was riding his ass with his freaking high beams on! Sam growled a threat as his hands tightened on the wheel. The car responded by fishtailing and he instantly eased off the gas. He stifled the urge to swing the car around, screech it to a halt, force the car behind him to a stop and get out so he could confront the asshole.

Yup, best to find a motel and pull in for the night; ahot shower, comfort food, and a movie on TV while lying in bed was in order. He'd had enough and knew he wasn't in any condition to tolerate any more. He reached for his cell, deliberately slowing down to piss the idiot off behind him even more as he scrolled for the app to reveal the closest motel to his location. Now, the moron was flicking his lights at him and that did it, Sam had had enough. He tossed the phone and returned both hands to the wheel. He would need all his coordination and strength to send the car into a controlled spin and not end up in a ditch.

Mad at his brother as he was, he would never deliberately endanger him by wrecking the car. Despite what Dean thought and said Sam was not _that_ stupid. He glanced into the rearview mirror, foot hovering over the brake, mentally confirming his gun was loaded and on the seat next to him. He didn't intend to shoot anyone, but it was a good way to frighten and intimidate one's opponent to make a fist fight easier. Blowing his breath out, he became aware that the lights had backed off and relaxed his death grip on the steering wheel. Now that the jerk was off his ass, he raised one hand to adjust the rearview mirror. He knew he should be watching the road, but all he could manage to do was stare into the new angle of the mirror and force his breathing to slow down.

Dean was quiet, still asleep on the back seat, undisturbed by the rain and bright lights that were making Sam's vision blur and oblivious to how close he had come to ending up on the floor. Yeah, it would relieve some of his tension if he indulged in a much needed fist fight, but what he wanted and needed wasn't his first priority.

Ten minutes passed with Sam's eyes on the rearview mirror, willing his brother to at least twitch, rather than on the road with oncoming traffic and the weather. A blaring horn cemented his indecision. He pulled to the side of the road, grabbed his cell and made a serious attempt to find the nearest motel. One accident that had caused his brother his life with Sam behind the wheel was all that was ever going to happen.

He sat for a minute, listening to the growl of the engine, eyes on the rearview mirror, wondering, hoping that Dean would instinctively come to realize the car was idling and stir to ask why they had stopped. Nothing. Swallowing against the sudden urge to turn around and reach out to touch the bundle of blanket and coat, he put the car into drive and pulled out.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the motel parking lot, parked in front of the office, left the car idling and went in to reserve a room. Wouldn't you know, he had to stand in line? Crap, waiting his turn gave him unwanted time to think about the fight which reignited his anger and caused him to remember how mad he was at his brother.

Standing there fuming, he forgot his earlier emotional melt down. He'd leave Dean to spend the night sleeping in the car, hell, wouldn't be the first time he'd done it. Would serve the prick right, and Sam was in the mood to do it too. He sighed, searching every pocket he had in a desperate attempt to locate some aspirin. Yeah, right, like he'd be able to sleep without Dean in the room with him. Dean wouldn't care, would probably prefer to sleep in the car. He wouldn't be the one sitting up all night, worrying about where Sam was or how he was doing.

"Sir?' said the clerk for a third time. Sam reached a hand out, fingers finding the counter to steady himself as the room dipped. These severe emotional swings were wreaking havoc on his ability to remain focused.

"One room, two beds." he replied to the question asked by the clerk when it was finally his turn to be waited on. Seemed like everyone had the same idea in regards to getting off the road. Two families had been ahead of him to check in and now another twenty minutes had passed. Dean wasn't drunk, hung over or passed out, but still, Sam didn't feel comfortable leaving him alone out in the car for the length of time it was taking to check in. Was it just ten minutes ago he'd contemplated leaving him out there all night? It wasn't right or fair to leave him alone outside when he had no idea where they were or where Sam had gone.

Despite what he said, Sam couldn't shake the feeling he wasn't as ok as he claimed to be. He didn't hold out much hope Dean would be cooperative and submit to Sam's need to check him over and Sam was feeling too sick to force his brother to his will.

"Child?" the clerk asked giving him a warm smile. "Hi ya."

"Huh?' Sam had the pen in hand, ready to sign the receipt. He was too tired and preoccupied to appreciate the interest he was garnering from the clerk.

"Two beds, you keep staring out the window like a nervous mother who made the unwise yet understandable decision to leave her sleeping child in the car. You know, the mom who didn't plan on taking so long, the mom who didn't want to deal with the kid whining, the mom who felt it was more trouble than it was worth to collect her kid and drag him in here to hold and juggle and amuse when it was just as easy to leave him asleep, warm and comfy tucked into his safe car seat."

"Oh." he blushed, unable to meet her gaze. A nervous parent, really? That's how she saw him? Now that he'd been out of the car and away from Dean for more than thirty minutes, he wondered how he ever could have considered leaving him alone in the car overnight. He couldn't stop staring out the window at the car, he couldn't keep his attention on the motel clerk and Dean was only ten feet away from him with the car in full view. "No." he signed the receipt and pushed it across the counter. "Two adults." he didn't think he'd been that obvious, hadn't realized he'd been stealing glances at the car that often for so long.

"So, kinda tired huh?" she dangled the key from her finger, holding it just out of reach with a teasing smile. "You seem pretty distracted."

"Sorry." Sam pushed his hair out of his face. "Tired, you know? Weather isn't great…been doing all the driving. My brother's been asleep since we started out."

"Younger brother then?" she teased. "You haven't taken your eyes off that car."

"Mentally maybe." Sam finally glanced up to meet her look, giving her a weak smile.

"Aah, well, you know what they say….a man never mentally advances past the age of his shoe size."

"Oh God." Sam groaned. "I have an eleven-year old."

"Look me up in the morning, everyone eats over at the Kettle." she handed him the key. "Maybe I'll see you around nine or so."

Sam pocketed the key and returned to the car. Dean hadn't moved and Sam squelched down a feeling of some emotion he was reluctant to identify. He slid behind the wheel and pulled out, driving around back and parking in front of the room that would be theirs for the next two nights. Dean could whine all he wanted, they weren't going anywhere until Sam knew for a fact Dean hadn't been hurt. He didn't care how many days it took for Dean to fess up about it and if it came to a physical confrontation, so be it.

The lights from the street lamps in the parking lot blurred sickeningly and while Sam wanted nothing more than to attribute that to the wind driven rain, he was forced to admit his headache was worse. Originally brought on by his fight with Dean, it had only worsened with the drive, the weather, the traffic, the delay in getting the room and the dread of the inevitable reaction from Dean when he found out Sam had pulled off the road. He really needed to find some aspirin.

It hadn't been enough that Dean could have seriously been hurt, no, he'd had to go and get all pissy about Sam's reaction. Refusing to understand why Sam was upset over his suicidal actions was nothing new, being mad at him over it was and Sam had no idea what to do about it.

" _Dean, would you wait just a damn minute?" Sam caught up with him at the car. "You're not going to do this to me again. I'm not asking you to admit you were wrong, I don't need to hear it, we both know you were…"_

" _Seriously Sam? Now? You pick now to call me out?"_

" _Then when Dean? You avoid me, you don't talk to me….."_

" _You know Sam, not everything is about you."_

" _You make it that way, not me."_

" _Sam." it was a warning, Sam knew it, knew he should back off and leave his brother alone, wait for some other time to have this fight but he couldn't reel himself in._

" _You act like nothing you do matters, like you have nothing to lose….."_

" _And why the hell is that? What the hell do I have Sam? Christ, I've lost enough! What else can you possibly take away from me? I lost Lisa, Ben, Cas, I don't have my car. The only home I've ever really known is gone. I have nothing left to lose! What does it matter what I do? Who does it matter too?"_

_Me, Sam thought, what about me? You have me. You haven't lost me, aren't I enough?_

" _What more do you want from me?" Dean continued to rant while Sam had been lost in his own thoughts. "I manage to get by, it's what I do."_

" _No!" Sam exploded, fist punching the trunk of the car. Dean stepped back. "No, you don't get to do that, not this time! You don't get to whine about all you have lost, what all you had to give up, you don't get to do that to me. You have me Dean, I'm right here but you're too busy trying to push me away and keep me at arm’s length to realize I'm not going anywhere."_

" _You will, you always do, it's what you do, you leave Sam and it hurts, it hurts to know you would rather be anywhere, with anyone other than with me."_

" _You let me go, you push me away and you pull yourself away from me, like you're doing now and I don't deserve that…..you think that doesn't hurt? How do you think I feel knowing you would rather seek comfort from a bottle than share your burden with me? You won't let me help you, would rather drink then talk, would rather lie and hide then listen and confront…"_

" _What do you expect? This is who I am!"_

" _I expect you to care about yourself! I want you to care enough to be here for me. I'm trying like hell to understand what you're going through but you're shutting me out. I know losing Cas hurts, I know you trusted him and what he did to me is something that is killing you and it's tearing me apart watching you act like this. And I'm so sorry about Lisa, I know it's my fault you….."_

" _Don't you dare, don't you fucking dare! Of all things you get to throw in my face, don't you dare choose that!"_

" _Why not? Are you saying that's not a problem? I need you here Dean, here with me, for me….."_

" _I've always been here for you, have been since I could carry you."_

" _There was a time you weren't."_

" _That's not fair Sammy."_

" _You wanna talk fair? Do you even realize the crap you put on me? Even when you came back, you weren't here, you weren't you! I know you bury shit deep, I know you don't deal with your issues in a healthy way. I swear you deliberately pull shit like this just to piss me off! But tell me Dean, tell me how the hell you know the difference between what's real and what isn't? Tell me how you learned that! Tell me how you knew to teach it to me! Tell me damn you!"_

"Dean?" Sam opened the back door and slapped a foot. He was getting wetter and colder and he really wanted to be inside where it was warm and dry. "Dean, come on man, I'm freezing." he grabbed a shin and gave the leg a sharp tug. He was at the end of his emotional limit. He couldn't take another instance in his life that was out of the ordinary, an outcome that wasn't what he expected to happen. Dean was supposed to kick at him, snap at him to leave him alone; he wasn't supposed to remain limp and be dragged across the seat towards the door. Sam let him go and backed out of the open door, at a loss as to how to proceed next. Dean had all but shut down on him. Emotionally, mentally and physically, he was unresponsive and at the moment, Sam was undecided over whether to drag him out of the car or lock him in it.

He thumped his head against the roof of the stolen car, cringing at the pain that vibrated down the back of his ears, through his jaw, along his teeth and tore a whimper from his throat.

"Get off me." Dean muttered, feeling a bruising grip on his ankle. Sam ducked his head back into the car, relief over his brother finally waking up short lived as he remembered Dean was as mad at him as he was at Dean. Dean wouldn't want to be in a motel room, he'd be pissed Sam had made the decision to pull off the road for the night. He'd argue and complain and claim Sam didn't have the right to make such a decision on his own. He'd insist on getting back on the road and driving on to meet Jack. Fine, if that's what he wanted, he could fight Sam for the car and if he managed to win, could take the car and go. Sam was having none of it and he sure as hell wasn't going to put up with Dean and his mood.

Dean sat up in the backseat, car door open and getting wet because he was too befuddled to get past Sam who was blocking his way out of the car. He had no idea what the hell was going on, where he was, where they were, or why and he couldn't understand why Jack wasn't there to greet him.

He wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation he found himself in, wasn't sure what to do or where to go. He thought about just lying back down and sleeping in the car but Sam's solid presence told him he wasn't going to be allowed to do that. He really didn't feel like being around Sam; they'd both been wrong, both had said things they shouldn't have and distance between them was best for both of them.

He dallied a bit longer, trying to decide if he should risk the wrath of Sam a third time that day. No, better not. If Sam had been ok with Dean choosing to sleep in the car, he wouldn't have woken him up to go inside the motel room for the night and still be standing too close in Dean's comfort space looking ready to cry. Well, that was something, maybe.

"DEAN!" the door squeaked, the shaggy head tossed against the impediment of rain soaked hair in its eyes and a hand was reaching for his…..jaw? What the hell? He raised his arm to block Sam's attempt to take hold of his chin in a bid to force him to make eye contact.

Ok, nope, hiding in the car until morning definitely not an option. He toyed with the idea of remaining where he was and making Sam drag him out of the car, but that would only serve to either incite Sam further or upset him completely and did Dean really want to deal with that? Question was, why didn't Sam want him to stay in the car? He rubbed at the back of his neck, Sam had to be confused, he didn't want to be around Dean but didn't want Dean to be away from him, how the hell did one deal with that?

"Where's Jack?" he climbed out of the car once Sam had backed off enough to allow him to do so.

"He's not here." Sam led the way to the door. "I can't drive any more, I'm tired, the weather sucks and I'm gonna take some aspirin and lay down."

"Where are we?" he started back to the car, intending to go to the trunk and get his bag. He missed the look to settle on Sam's face, a look of devastation and fear. Dean wasn't responding to the unplanned overnight stay in the motel the way he was supposed to and it rocked Sam to his already shaken core.

"Bags are already inside." Sam said softly, knowing what was in the bag Dean wanted. Dean veered to his right and walked into the room without another word, leaving Sam standing in the rain staring after him, blinking against tears of frustration and those courtesy of the torment caused by his headache. Speaking of which, Sam raised his hands to feel his eyes, then his nose and ears before pulling his fingers through his hair to make sure his head only felt like it had been split open and wasn't currently leaking grey matter through a previously undiscovered injury.

" _This stops Dean, do you hear me? No more. You need a beer, fine, you call me and we'll meet up and get you a meal and a bottle, but this?" he snatched the flask from his brother’s hand and poured the contents into the dirt. "This is not how you are going to deal with losing Cas or the house or having to give up the car. You can be mad at me, you can hate me, but you don't get to make it a choice, it's not me or the bottle, it's me and you have to deal that ‘cause I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. Yeah, there'll be times I'm gonna get pissed and walk away but you hear me and get it through your damn thick head, I will always come back."_

Dean closed the door behind him and went to the bathroom, closing that door and locking it. He needed a few minutes to himself without Sam barging in. He eased himself onto the edge of the tub, bent over to untie his left boot and kicked it off but when it came to his right foot, he was forced to raise it and cross his ankle over his left knee. It'd been maybe eight hours since the confrontation with the two spirits and while he'd blown off Sam's concerns, he was finding it impossible to ignore his body’s response to the pummeling he'd taken. Rising to his feet, he pulled his t-shirt up, having taken his coat and long-sleeved shirt off as he'd passed his bed and viewed his back and shoulders in the mirror.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

"Jack, hey, it's Sam…." he stood shivering outside the motel room door. Dean hadn't responded to his knocking or verbal requests to be let in, so he'd pulled out his cell and called Jack to notify him of the delay.

"Winchester, how's it going?"

"Not so good.  Um, weather forced us off the road, we're on our way, but might be another day or two. I know we were supposed to be there Friday, but…"

"Weather's good here, shouldn't delay you if you leave in the morning." Jack said easily. "Not so sure it's a Wendigo anyway, thought I'd wait until you got here and then fill you in on the latest."

"Yeah, well truth is, Dean is um….hunt went bad earlier today, it's taking me some time to talk him down, you know?" he walked towards the office, looking for signs the motel advertised free wi-fi. "Motel has wi-fi, why don't you email me what you have so far?" he doubted he'd be able to actually read anything with the way his head felt, but he had all the next day and Dean would drive when they left, so he could down load to PDF files and read in the car.

"He ok?"

"Um…..what? Oh yeah, yeah, I guess…sure…." he turned around and headed back towards their room, stumbling over his own two feet as a wave of dizziness sent him reeling. He suddenly didn't feel so good.  Cripe, what was up with his damn head? He stopped, one hand against a pole to support himself as for the first time in his life, he wanted a cold, wet cloth to lie across his forehead.

"Are you?"

"Yeah, look, we'll be there, can you hold on til we get there?" he was back at the room and when he wasn't let in, let his head rest against the door. His one hand hold hadn't done anything to keep it from repeatedly bobbing forward and once he'd managed to push off from the pole, he'd staggered the last several feet as if drunk.

The heel of his hand was pressed against his forehead and his eyes were squeezed shut but his head still required support to keep from pitching him forward to his knees. Man, where the hell had this freaking headache come from? He'd never had one like it before, not even when he was having visions or working to control his powers or fighting memories and hallucinations.

"Ain't wise to hunt the unknown these days without solid back-up. I'll sit tight until you pull in. Don't blame you either Sam, I've known Dean for years, good luck getting him to come around. See ya."

" _Why can't you ever just be upfront with me from the beginning? Why do you have to crash and burn before you talk to me? Maybe I can't do anything to help, but Christ Dean, you aren't the only one who has to deal! What about me? Don't you ever think about me? Think about what you're putting me through?"_

_Only all the time. Dean thought to himself, hands fisted, doing everything he possibly could not to haul off and land a right fist to his brother’s jaw._

" _You think you hide it from me? You think I don't know? Haven't we gone through this before? When Dad died? When you came back from hell?"_

" _Keep pushing Sam."_

_Sam took a deep breath, ready to continue on with his verbal assault but Dean's voice held a tone, drew a line, one Sam well knew not to cross. Yeah, he'd been pushing and it seemed he'd pushed as far as Dean was going to allow. Sam recognized the signs, the set jaw, the clenched fists, the heavy breathing, the way his eyes had narrowed, knew one more word out of his mouth and the argument would become a fist fight. Was he really ready to deal with a physical fight brought on by anger and resentment?_

" _Fine." he held his hands up in surrender. "Fine, wallow, drown, go ahead and suffer through whatever this is on your own, ‘cause I'm done. You hear me Dean? You want to talk, share, whatever, I'll be here, but I'm done trying to help you through it." chalk up another failure in trying to get his brother to **talk**._

Dean came out of the bathroom, dressed in clothes he slept in when the room was cold and there was little heat. If Sam was being his usual observant self, he would question why Dean wore long sleeves and pants because the room wasn't cold. In fact, it was rather warm and Dean headed to the thermostat to knock the heat back. Thinking of Sam, where the hell was he anyway? He'd been the one whining about being cold and wet and wanting to lie down, maybe he went to get something to eat. Could have asked Dean what he wanted, pissed or not, would have been the decent…Dean eyed the room key on the desk. Why would Sam go get dinner without the room key? He hadn't been in the bathroom that long had he? Well shit, come to think of it, had Sam ever followed him into the room?

"Sam?" Dean opened the door, catching Sam as, without support of the door, he fell backwards through the doorway. "What the hell?"

"Bout time." Sam muttered. He twisted away from Dean who was already shoving him off and stumbled over to the first bed. "Man."

"Dude, that's my….." Dean watched as Sam, still with a hand holding his forehead, sank down on the bed. "…..bed, move."

"Aspirin." he whispered. "Please?" he added softly with a groan, a hand now holding to either side of his head over his ears.

"Yeah, ok sure, get off my bed, you're getting it all wet."

Sam took a deep breath and got to his feet. He had enough coordination left to remove his coat, kick off his sneakers, step out of his jeans and on the second attempt, snag aspirin from Dean's palm, pop them into his mouth and chase them down with water from a glass Dean had retrieved from the bathroom and set on the table between the beds.

"Thanks." no longer able to remain standing, he fell across the bed, eased onto his side and pulled the pillow over his head. The light may as well have been a chisel doing its best to separate his eyebrows from his skin.

"Sure, not like you often say please. So, headache?" duh Dean, you did make him drive.

"Not now Dean." yes, he was cold and wet and uncomfortable and his head was the ping-pong ball in a marathon game but even with all that, he knew the motel room was overly warm; too warm to warrant Dean being dressed as he was. Again he thought back to when he'd found his brother sprawled in the alley. Sam had thought then Dean was hurt but when Dean had denied it, had let it go.

Was Dean hiding an injury from him? If so, why? Because he didn't feel Sam could handle seeing him hurt? Dean was not stupid, he didn't hide or ignore injuries. Even if he had acquired one from being selfish or from some stupid stunt, he would see it taken care of even if he didn't share it with Sam.

Sam thought about being locked out of the motel room, wanted to pursue it but he wasn't up to it, not just then anyway. Being horizontal and blocking the light out in a quiet room seemed to be beneficial. He was not quite so nauseous, and felt he'd be able to get some sleep. When he woke up and felt better, he'd tackle the ugly subject of a possibly injured brother.

Dean sat down at the table and laid out what he would need to clean the guns. He'd had a couple of hours nap in the car and was now wide awake. He wanted to ask Sam why they had stopped so early but one look at the kid's face when he'd fallen through the door and the words on the tip of his tongue had melted away.

Dean was more pissed at himself than his brother. Sam was right, Dean had been the one to offer himself to Sam and the offer needed to be unconditional. Sam had the right to get mad, be upset and disagree and he should be able to do so without fear of Dean yanking the carpet out from under him. He needed to be there for Sam and he would be, would do whatever it took to keep the kid grounded.

" _I always had a problem with your deal Dean. I was never ok with it. Not because you made it, but because you thought I would be ok **that** you made it. How the hell could you ever think that? Think I could handle knowing where you were and why? What? You thought I'd go back to school, that without you I'd be able to live some normal, happy life? I mean, what the fuck? Yeah, I went away to school but the world, my world still had you in it, we may have been apart but you were still **here**!"_

"You hungry?" he asked, getting up and moving over to the desk in search of the directory for nearby restaurants that all motels displayed. "Chinese or pizza will deliver."

"Steamed rice with beef and watch what you order, Chinese food is ridiculously high in salt." his voice was muffled and the weariness was still there but his voice was louder than it had been when he asked for aspirin.

Kid, for whatever reason, was flat on his back in bed with his head buried head under a pillow and he still found the energy to scold Dean about his diet. Dean why they were in a motel. Sam never complained about driving but with the weather bad, his emotions still raw from their earlier argument and his suspicion that Dean was hiding an injury from him, stress had gotten the better of him. All he needed was something to eat, some aspirin and some decent sleep and come morning, he'd be fine.

" _Don't you get it? Whether we were together or apart, speaking or ignoring one another, I've never **not** had you Dean. I will never be fine if you aren't **here**."_

Dean tossed the menu, it was Chinese food, like he needed a menu for anything other than the phone number. Deep Fried Wantons, Egg Rolls and some deep fried Sweet and Sour Pork. He placed the call, watching Sam as he gave the order, not missing the way his brother tensed and his already white-knuckled grip on the pillow tightened until the veins in the back of hands pulsed. Ok, so not only had he ignored the order to watch his salt intake, he'd ordered food that was deep-fried and Sam didn’t like that one bit.  Okay, meet him half way since the kid looked like shit, Dean replaced the order of pork with noodles.

Really, Sam needed to find another way to deal with whatever the hell he was going through. He needed to find a way to keep his emotions and moods to himself ‘cause Dean was having a hard time handling Sam's recent need to share everything. He was bringing up shit from years ago, shit Dean had put away and buried and in no way wanted to rehash. He couldn't do this, do whatever this was. Sam wasn't exactly asking for anything, he was confused and lost and trying to stay grounded and it appeared his way to do that was to tell Dean how he felt, about everything, tell him everything he'd kept to himself for the last however many years.

Dean tried to remember when this had all come about. The hunt that morning had only escalated the already tense situation between them. Sam had been moody and quiet and withdrawn ever since he'd agreed, on his own, to rejoin Dean after splitting from him for over a week. Dean had thought that issue behind them but apparently not. Cause if not that, then what?

" _Why, Dean? Tell me why you're hell bent on this self-destructive streak? What are you trying to do? Maybe I should crack a joke, ask if you're trying to turn me grey before I'm thirty but I can't because you're scaring me."_

" _What the fuck is your problem Sam? Christ, back the hell off!"_

" _Not until you talk to me! This is enough, I've had enough. I can't take you shutting me out, you're shutting down and I can't take you doing this! I need to know you're ok! That if I leave you alone, I won't come back to find you broken and bleeding!"_

" _What the hell do you think I'm going to do?"_

" _That's just it! I DON'T KNOW! I didn't think you were stupid enough to go up against two spirits when you knew I only thought there was one but you did!"_

" _Sam!"_

" _No, enough! ENOUGH! What the hell is going on with you? No, don't you turn away from me….." Dean knocked Sam's hand from his arm and stalked out of touching distance before meeting his brother’s gaze. "I'm going to keep pushing until you break, until you tell me what's going on with you, until you stop this shit! I'm not giving in and walking away this time, you want to punch me, fine, take your best shot, but damn you, you best be prepared ‘cause I'm hitting back."_

" _Sam, get out of my way."_

" _Why Dean, huh? Why? Where you going? What are you going to do?"_

" _Take a walk."_

" _No, no, you're no. Now tell me why you're doing this…"_

" _Because I don't know how to trust you! I want to, but you're crazy Sam, I never know IF you're going to have an episode! IF you're going to freak out! I keep waiting for you to breakdown completely and I don't know how to get you back WHEN that happens! You wanna talk scared? You claim you're fine and to anyone else, it appears you are, but how the hell can you be? Everyone told me how you would be, mental and broken. Threw in my face what you would be like; Cas, Crowley, Meg, Balty...they all warned me I wouldn't like what I got back. Death built a fucking wall to keep your memories back and when you kicked it, you were a drooling mess on the floor yet it comes down and you're fine? Come on!"_

_"Yeah, and how again did Cas do you any favors? You trusted him and look where you are! It's great to see you're doing so well."_

_"Fuck you." Dean turned and began to walk away._

_"DEAN! Wait! I didn't mean...shit!" he kicked the wall so hard he caused the mortar to crumble. "Dammit, I didn't...Dean!"_

Now that he was lying down, no longer forced to concentrate or focus, Sam was finding some relief from the unrelenting headache that earlier had made him nauseous. Is this what a migraine felt like? It certainly didn't feel like any headache he'd ever had before. He could hear Dean moving about the room, heard the TV when it was turned on, heard the unmistakable familiar sounds of guns being dismantled and cleaned. Dean was making an effort to keep the noise level down.

The food was delivered thirty minutes later. Dean knew Sam heard the knock on the door, heard the conversation between him and the girl who'd made the delivery, knew he could smell the food but he didn't stir or get up so Dean set his food aside and sat down at the table to enjoy his own meal while it was still hot.

Sam knew Dean hesitated over waking him up to eat, knew when he made the decision to leave him be. What he didn't know was how much time had passed. He knew laying in the dark in a mostly quiet room made him feel better. He'd drift about in this in-between state awhile longer then get up and eat. It was late to be eating Chinese food but now that he wasn't driving with his brother sleeping in the backseat, some of his tension had eased and he was vaguely aware of feeling hungry. What he really wanted, was that cold, wet cloth but felt too drained to get up and go clear over to the bathroom to get one. He could ask Dean, he'd have a smart ass comment and likely throw it in his face.

Not worth it.

"Dean?" he called softly, so much for his resolution not to ask Dean for anything. Either his resolve was really that weak or he really felt that awful.

"What?"

The way the word was barked at him, made Sam cringe, but he really wanted that cloth, it was all he could think about. Somehow in his blown mind, he'd convinced himself he'd feel better with a cold cloth to lay on his forehead and if he were to get up and go get it, he'd have to crawl because the thought of being vertical caused bile to rise in his throat. Taking a deep breath, he licked his lips and tried to steady his voice.

"I...aah...don't feel..." he pushed the pillow up so that it was only covering his eyes.  “I..."

"What do you want Sam?" he snapped impatiently. If the kid insisted on bringing up any issues from that morning, Dean swore he'd smother him with the pillow he was holding so tightly to. "Just spit it out, I have things to do."

"Just a wash cloth, maybe, you know, wet with cold water." he spoke the words in such a rush they all ran together and it took Dean a moment to decipher what he had actually said. He was getting to his feet when Sam, apparently thinking Dean had decided to blow him off, spoke. "Never mind."

"I've got it." Dean's tone was still snappish, but there was no anger in the hand that pulled the pillow away from Sam's face and guided the rag into his hand. "That bad?"

"Dunno. Never had one like this before. Not even when...you know." he laid the cloth over his forehead and pulled the pillow back over his face. "Thanks."

When Sam's rang, Dean got up to retrieve it when all Sam did was grunt and flop over onto his belly.

"Sam? What the hell? You were supposed to check in at nine o'clock." Bobby was bellowing as Dean's thumb left the answer key and raised the phone to his ear. "Kid, you're killing me! I know you ain't been feeling so right, but I'm an old man, stop doing this crap to me."

"Hey Bobby."

"Dean? Oh, now what the hell is going on? I swear, the two of you are gonna do me in!"

"What'd I do?" he asked perplexed.

"You're answering Sam's phone but didn't bother to answer your own for starters."

"Mine's somewhere on vibrate. What did you mean about Sam checking in?"

"Well, you ass, let's see, you two are all but unreachable. I never know when you're changing your phones and you don't always respond to emails. Sam called this morning, everything ok? You at Jack's yet? Gotta be close."

"Nope, we're in a motel."

"Mind telling me why?"

"Far as I can tell, he had a headache."

"Uh-huh."

"Ain't shitting you Bobby, he wakes me up and we're in a motel parking lot. He took some aspirin and went to bed."

"Aspirin?"

"Yup, which means headache."

"He woke you up? He was driving?" Bobby drawled. "And he had you with him? Why was he driving anyway? Ain't it raining out that way?"

"Like a bitch." Dean confirmed without a clue. "Oh." he deflated somewhat. He'd been pissed that morning when Sam had gone all sharing/caring after the hunt had gone bad. After they'd had their blow up at the car, they'd had to go dig up a second grave, delaying their departure by a couple hours. Dean had been the one to finish filling in the grave and when Sam had announced they were leaving to meet up with Jack, he’d thrown his brother the keys and climbed into the back seat to catch some sleep. He hadn't really been thinking about Sam and his reluctance to drive.

"Why do you do that to him?" Bobby was saying. "Kid's already an emotional time bomb, why you gotta add to it?" so, Bobby didn't know about the argument, best to keep it that way. "Gotta be careful Dean, he's lost enough….."

"Excuse me? What? What did you just say?" he couldn't have possibly heard right. Sam? Seriously?

"For someone who plays dumb at being smart, you really are dumb sometimes, or blind maybe, least when it comes to your brother. Stop pulling away from him, you laid yourself out there to him, now man up and be there, you hearin’ me?"

"Yessir, Bobby, sir." Dean quipped because if he didn't blow him off, he was gonna freak out.

"You know, after you wrap up the hunt with Jack, maybe you should swing by and retrieve the Impala, Sam could use something familiar in his world right now, some stability won't hurt either of you."

"Think its ok to go back and get her?" he brightened. "Man, that'd be awesome."

"Just, don't be too hard on him, check in with me tomorrow."

"Sure." he hung up. "Dude? Time to wake up and eat."


	3. Chapter 3

Jack had known John for several years before ever meeting either of the man’s sons. He'd met Dean when the oldest of John Winchesters sons had been hunting solo after the kid brother left for college and John had called Jack to back Dean up on a hunt. Dean had been a cocky, arrogant kid whose good looks and charm had made him a chick magnet. Jack had taken advantage of Dean's easy way with women and the two of them had had some great times together.

He'd met Sam several times after the brothers had re-united and while he considered the younger brother to be a good man and great hunter, he didn't have the same ease with him that he had with Dean. He'd also never seen Sam drive so when the car pulled up in front of the cabin, he headed to the driver’s door to greet who he expected to get out; Dean.

"Sam, hey, good to see you." he clasped arms, giving the taller man a clap on the back. "Wow, put some muscle on kiddo. Lookin kinda ragged, guess you weren't shitting me about a rough hunt."

Sam shut the car door and leaned his back against it. "Been a rough couple days." he ran a hand back thru his hair. "Nice place." he was aware of Jack's close scrutiny. He knew he looked tired, maybe because he was. Yesterday had been another stressful day, he hadn't eaten good or slept well and while the severe headache he'd had two days ago had let up, the threat of a return appearance couldn't be ignored.

"Well, come on in.  Grab a beer, you hungry?"

"No." he pulled his bag through the window and shouldered it. Dean was stirring, stretching out best as he could in the passenger seat. Chances were he knew they'd arrived at their destination and was taking some time to orient himself.

"He slept through you driving?" while Jack didn't know what Sam's issue with driving was, he knew from comments made in previous meet-ups with the brothers, that Dean usually did all the driving.

"Yeah, best to leave him be 'til he wakes up on his own." he'd expected Dean to do the driving and still had no clue why he hadn't. When the day had dawned sunny and clear, he'd made some excuse about his back aching from the lumpy mattress and asked Sam if he minded driving.

_"Why does everything have to be an argument with you?" Dean sighed tiredly. "Just drive, will you? You know where we're going, you have the directions, you wanna share my burden, do some of the driving once in a while"_

_"That's not what I meant."_

_"You don't get to have it both ways Sammy."_

_"Dean, cut the crap..."_

_"You've pushed me as far as I'm willing to let you. You have no freaking clue how close I am to telling you to go to hell."_

_"You'd say that to me?" he looked stricken but Dean was just as heart sick and turned away. "Wow, you're closer to that edge than I thought."_

_"Man, you just….want it all, don't you? It's taking everything I've got to DO this, to hold on and you just won't quit."_

_"What's your other option? A bottle?"_

_"If a bottle of whiskey happens to be there, on that edge, all the better."_

_"We agreed, you want a drink, keep it to beer." Sam wished Dean would throw a punch. He knew how to deal with his brother when he was swinging. He was trying to remain calm and understand, after all, his comment about Cas before was both wrong and uncalled for but Dean was making it extremely difficult for him to keep his temper._

_"I didn't agree to anything."_

_"You know what Dean? You aren't the only one hurting here. Maybe I manage it better, maybe I've found a way to deal and you can keep attacking me, striking out like I'm the one you're mad at but there's gonna come a time when I've had enough."_

_"With you, there always is."_

_For a moment, Sam truly thought Dean was going to turn and walk away from him, go across the parking lot and keep on going. He was struck stupid, unable to wrap his mind around the idea that maybe, just maybe, he'd finally pushed Dean into something he'd never been able to before. Leave. Had he finally crossed that line? Finally pushed enough that his brother was willing to walk away from him?_

_It wasn't what he wanted to do, he wanted Dean to fess up, to confide in him and if that required a split lip or a black eye, hell, if that's all it took to finally make Dean talk, he'd happily go to bed with a bag of ice. He watched as Dean hesitated, warring with his inner turmoil the need to put away from him what was causing him torment, not breathing again until Dean opened the passenger door and got into the car._

_What the hell was he supposed to do now?_

"Where the hell is your car?" Jack led the way inside, Sam on his heels. He thought it strange that Sam was driving, was not driving the Impala, that Dean was asleep and letting Sam drive and that Sam was leaving Dean in the car. "You got Dean to leave it huh? So, weather better?"

Sam made an undecipherable comment. They'd spent the day before at the motel ignoring one another. Sam had woken up, headache gone and feeling better, if not completely fine. Dean had declined going out for breakfast, so Sam had taken himself off on foot to find a diner and spend the day at the library researching the hunt they were headed to. Dean had done laundry and shopped to load up on supplies, such as salt and ammo and flare guns. They'd managed to get through dinner together at a diner before returning to the motel to watch a movie on TV in utter silence.

Sam had asked once, if Dean had been hurt the previous morning during the hunt and accepted his word when he'd said no. Other than that, there'd been no conversation between them. Sam hadn't seen Dean wince or stumble nor had he noticed any particular movement being difficult for him. He hadn't seen Dean take any ibuprofen so he pushed aside his feelings that something was wrong and let himself believe Dean's denial of injury. He couldn't take another shouting match, he just couldn't.

"So, where's the car?"

"Parked, had to put it up on blocks when our doubles were terrorizing the country, we'll go back to get it soon." no need to share being on the run and hiding from creatures that hadn't walked the earth since before, you know, man.

"Bet Dean didn't like that. Do you guys mind sharing a room? Has two cots.  We won't be here long, hopefully just this weekend.  Gonna meet up with the Sheriff, he's a good guy, decent about all….this, so no worry."

"Cool." he went through the door Jack had pointed out and dropped his backpack on the cot closest to the wall. The room was small, two metal cots, each sporting a thin mattress with an outdoor sleeping bag. They were separated by a TV-tray that held a lamp and an old wind-up alarm clock. Sam didn't know why some shit mattered but some things just did. Something as insignificant as the ability of the cots occupants to be able to reach out and physically touch one other while lying in bed suddenly mattered a lot. They wouldn't both be able to stand in the space between the cots and yeah, he was ok with that. "This is good."

"Hunting cabin, you know? Got electric though and indoor plumbing."

"So, we good to go in the morning? I'd like to see the maps of the area and see where you've marked its hunting grounds." he turned around to go back out to the main room of the cabin.

"Sure, of course." he hesitated, coming from across the room with two beers. "Everything ok?"

"He'll be in." Sam said. "Trust me Jack, you want to let him wake up on his own."

"Yeah, ok, you'd know best, it's just…..he sick or something?"

"Or something."

Dean joined them an hour later, more subdued than Jack ever remembered. He chalked it up to the brother’s rough life style of living on the road and got down to business with the maps. Sam was attentive but Dean's mind was elsewhere. Jack remained quiet and observed. Dean was letting Sam take the lead and simply agreeing as if to hurry the plans along so he could leave.

"So, we agree? Find its trail at first light, track it to its lair and go after it just before dark?" Dean said, sitting back in his chair and shoving the map towards Sam.

"No." Sam shook his head. "Would be stupid to miss it and be caught out in the woods all night. We track it tomorrow, find its lair and go after it first thing Monday morning."

"Whatever." Dean agreed. "So, dawn?"

"It's a plan, drink?" Jack set a bottle of Kentucky Whiskey on the table with three glasses. Sam didn't need to see the label to know it was Ole-Grand Dad and though he tried, he couldn't keep the glare of intense annoyance off his face when Dean reached for a glass.

_"Okay, so maybe you never agreed, but I'm asking you, please, back off the hard liquor."_

_"Sam, stop acting like it's a problem..."_

_"It is a problem, it's destroying you and I have to stand here and watch it."_

_"No, no you don't, you don't like it, hey, wide open road out there Sammy."_

_"Dean, please, I'm asking, okay? I'm begging you, don't do this, if not for yourself, then for me, for my sake, if nothing else, please, lay off."_

_"I'm fine, ok? It's not a problem, and if it were, it's not your problem."_

_"There was a time me asking you to do something would have been enough."_

_"You're all grown up now Sammy, remember? You can look after yourself, don't need me to do it."_

_Yeah, Sam thought, and I am looking out for myself but you're supposed to be there if I fall and if you aren't looking after yourself and you won't let me do it, how are you gonna help me when I need you?_

Jack poured the drinks and they toasted to a successful hunt the next day. He went to pour a second round but Dean waved him off.

"We're good." Dean said. "He was down with a headache and I've been taking ibuprofen all day, so if you all don't mind, let's go get some dinner." he caught Sam's startled look out of the corner of his eye and sighed. Shit, supposed he shouldn't have said that. Sam had appeared to believe him when he'd said he hadn't been hurt during the last hunt and now he'd just left himself wide open to being tackled to the floor, sat on, and felt up so Sam could satisfy his nurturing fetish. "Sam, I'm fine, don't even start."

"Ibuprofen for what?" there, there it was, that face again, the look of annoyance mingled with concern in the depths of those all-to-seeing eyes. "Dean, come on, don't be stupid."

"Sam said a hunt went bad…..everything ok?" Jack asked. "You didn't look so good earlier."

"I said, I'm fine." Dean pushed back from the table and got up from his chair. "I wasn't the one flat on my back in bed, clutching my head I'd buried under a pillow."

"Yeah, well, lot happened that day." Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam's snappish tone. "Ibuprofen for what Dean?"

"Man, you just don't know when to quit, do you? You just keep pushing."

"You wanna be an ass and be taken down in front of Jack, ignore me a third time. Go ahead." his look dared Dean to so much as roll his eyes. "We're heading out into the freaking forest tomorrow, Jack and I both need to know we can depend on you to be able to watch our backs."

"Dean, you hurt?" Jack wasn't looking forward to seeing the brothers have it out on the floor of his cabin nor did he want to get in the middle of whatever was currently going on between them.

"No, just sore, got tossed around. An ache here, a pain there, that's it." he glared at Sam, anger and frustration reflected in his eyes. Just when Sam decided to make his move, Dean pulled his shirt off over his head and turned in a circle, lifting his arms out to the side, and then raised them over his head. "Happy? A bruise on my shoulder, that's all Sam."

Sam nodded, taking Dean's action for what it was, an attempt to play nice and meet him at least half way. Dean was trying, Sam knew he'd ripped away the protective layer Dean kept himself wrapped in. So much was never really said between them and for Sam to just lay it all out in the open like he had was a hit Dean was still reeling from.

" _Why do you do this? Think you know what I want? Do you really wanna know what I want? Fine, I want you here, Dean, **here** , with me, where I can be with you and make sure you're ok. I need to know that you are always gonna be around somewhere cause I'll never be ok if you're not. I tried that once and remember how that turned out? I did it, only cause I had no choice and that was your fault! You did that to me and I gotta admit, I was mad at you, angry that you would do that to me, pissed that you thought I would actually be able to be ok after losing you the way I did."_

" _You're the one who wanted out, wanted away from me and Dad. You left me to go to school, you walked out…..so yeah, yeah, I thought you'd be fine all on your own."_

" _I DIDN'T LEAVE YOU! I left the life of hunting, I was perfectly content to see you on holidays and summer vacations, or any time we had the opportunity to meet up, to have you be part of my life and YOU threw that away Dean!  You did that. You expected me to be able to just let you go and you never once cared about what I wanted or how I felt about it."_

" _I can't do this Sammy, I can't.  Letting you go to go to school can't possibly be compared to me…." he swallowed hard. "Who wudda thought you'd choose the wrong path?"_

" _And what path would that be Dean? You mean the one I chose where I trusted a demon, cut Bobby out of my life and all but ended the world? That path? So fucking sorry I didn't choose the path you selected for me when you willingly went to hell!"_

" _Maybe I shudda spelled it out for you, you had no problem doing so."_

" _What, that I wanted you to be happy? To finally have something, someone for yourself?"_

" _Lemme throw your words back in your face, how the hell could you've expected me to be happy?"_

"You sure?" Sam asked, reaching out then dropping his hand to pick up the empty glasses before he did something else to piss his brother off. Like actually touch the bruise on the back of Dean's shoulder. "Cause, I can handle you asking me to drive, I can handle you sleeping in the car and not wanting to eat, I can handle you being hurt, what I can't deal with right now, is you lying to me."

Dean bit his lip, going to put his shirt back on then catching sight of Sam's face and tossing it aside with a sigh. Sam waited, his breath held, waited for the rejection, waited to be blown off, waited for Dean to shut him out.

Dean's first thought was to start the argument from the last two days over again. To bring it up then and there in front of Jack, to lash out and hurt before being hurt, but the kid's eyes were swimming and his fingers were going to break those glasses he was holding in his hands if he squeezed them any harder.

" _I have to get past this and I am, I'm getting through it, getting there. If I have you, I can do it, but if I lose you, if you push me away… I'm laying it all out here Dean, and if you...if...I'm only to be…..only to not have….I can't lose you again."_

"So, Jack, does your indoor plumbing include hot water?"

"Course, sure."

"Gimme twenty minutes to take a shower, rub some Bengay on my back and then we'll go eat, okay Sammy?" cause not only was he bruised, he was sore and he was pretty sure he'd strained or pulled a muscle or two in his lower back. If telling Sam he'd tend to his few minor injuries wiped that look from the kid's face and prevented a freak-out followed by a wrestling match, hot shower and Bengay it would be.


	4. Chapter 4

The morning went as planned, the afternoon, not so much.

"Sam!" Jack yelled, sprawled on his belly, arms stretched out in front of him as he clung to Dean's wrist. "SAM!"

"Coming, coming…I’m coming….what?  I'm right……oh shit!" he came running and he never stopped, throwing his bag as he threw himself onto his belly right next to Jack both hands grabbing for the collar of Dean's jacket.

"Count of three." Jack panted. "1-2-3!"

With the combined strength of both Sam and Jack, they were able to pull Dean up from dangling off the edge of a rather steep incline. A fall likely wouldn't have been fatal, but the bumps and bruises and broken bones he would have acquired from the tumble would have either landed him in the hospital or laid him up for several weeks.

Dean didn't bother to try and stop the forward momentum or gain his feet when he was again on solid ground. He let himself fall forward with the force pulling him up only to end up sprawled on top of Sam with his hands still holding tightly to Jacks arms. The three lay as they'd landed, each struggling to regain his breath and regain his composure.

"Oommph." Dean groaned, letting go of Jack and placing either hand, palm down in the dirt on opposites sides of Sam and using what strength he had left to level himself up. He paused, feeling Sam's fingers twist his jacket, pulling it tight before letting go and rolling away so Dean could get up.

"Everyone ok?" Jack asked. "Sam?" he threw a look Dean's way, expecting him to be the one shaking and panting but it was Sam who laid in the dirt, one hand clawing at leaves and twigs as his shoulders shook with his attempt to breathe. "Hey! Sam!" he started forward but Dean was there before him, crouching next to his brother who laid on his left arm and hip, gasping like he was choking.

Jack stood back, eyes on Sam's heaving back. Sam felt the damp earth beneath him, felt the wetness from the leaves seep into the fabric of his jeans, knew he was lying in the dirt and knew he should get up, but the world around him had tunneled his vision grey. He felt a hand on the back of his neck, fingers squeezing, thumb rubbing in a circular motion.

"Sammy?" the voice was harsh, authoritative, yet comfortingly familiar and he dug his nails into the dirt in an attempt to fight off the world's efforts to close in on him. He wanted to respond, tried to take deep breaths and ended up gulping, causing Dean to give him a rough shake. "SAM!"

He was hauled up and turned around to sit on his ass. Before he could comprehend what was happening, his head was shoved down and his knees were being rapped with a stick to make him pull legs towards his chest. He let himself be manhandled and held between Jack and Dean while they talked to one another over his head as he slowly regained control of his breathing and the buzzing eased up and he could hear the actual words they were saying.

"I'm ok." Sam lifted his head, the hand on his neck remained but allowed him to bring his head up and he blinked until the black dots left his vision and he could see without the world being blurry.

"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded.

"Dunno." he shrugged. He reached out to touch Dean, causing his brother to give him a what-the-fuck look but he didn't care, couldn't stop himself. He needed to be able to feel that Dean was sitting beside him, that he wasn't an image Sam had conjured up in his mind and was really laying at the bottom of the cliff. "I'm good." and he was now that he knew Dean was real.

"Everyone good?" Jack stood up and moved back. Now that Sam seemed capable of remaining sitting up by himself, he felt awkward being so close. "We good to go?"

Dean nodded and stood up. He flexed his wrists, rotated his shoulders to make sure he hadn't unknowingly caused one to dislocate then reached down to give Sam a hand up. Soon as he tried to pull Sam's weight off the ground, he let out a yelp and promptly fell forward into his unsuspecting brother’s arms and across his lap.

"DEAN!" Sam jumped as Dean rolled off him and curled up on his side, pulling his right leg up so that his knee was close to his chest and he could clutch his calf with his hand. "Dean?"

"Fuck!" he groaned, rolling about, flopping from his side to his back, to his side and to his back. He half sat up then went down on his side, hand never losing grip on his leg. "OW!"

"What'd you hurt?" Sam asked, looking up at Jack, who spread his hands and shrugged. "Dean, let me see."

"I'm…..mmmmm….shit…..son-uva-bitch!" he bit his lip and by using his left hand, pushed himself upright. "Leg…calf."

"Cramp?" Jack asked. "Did you…Sam?" he followed Dean's focused gaze to where Sam had crawled and was vomiting into the weeds. "What the hell?”

"Sam?" Dean had to accept Jacks help to gain his feet then limped over to where Sam was crouched, arms braced on a fallen tree trunk. "Sammy? Here, drink some water."

Sam eased down onto one hip and took the bottle Dean had already removed the cap from. He didn't say anything, just took a drink then lowered his hand to his lap in an attempt to stop his arm from shaking.

"You good?" Dean asked quietly. "You know me, right? Know where you are?" Sam nodded but didn't speak. "Okay, sit tight for a bit, drink some more water. I'm not going anywhere, I'll be right here, in sight at all times, okay?" he let Jack lead him further along the fallen tree where he took a seat and worked the denim of his jeans up from his ankle. He really hoped he'd be able to pull his pant leg up far enough to see what the hell was wrong cause he didn't want to have to take his jeans off.

"Damn Dean." Jack whistled. "What the hell man….Jesus."

"It's ok Sammy." Dean shook his head at Jack. "Ain't that bad." he snagged his duffle bag and pulled it close, rooting around in it for something to tie around his leg. "Still doing ok Sam? Keep drinking the water." he wanted to go back to his brother’s side and make sure Sam was mentally with him but he needed to take care of himself first. If Dean passed out in front of him, Sam would go ballistic and Jack would have no hope of reaching or controlling him.

"Dean, you're bleeding….." Jack hissed.

Dean nodded. "I know, but not bad.  See anything sticking out?"

"No, but you didn't let me get a good look…" Jack slapped at Dean's hands. "You need to let me see.  Did you tear it open? Is it a puncture wound?"

"Later." he used his teeth to start a tear in one of the many cloths he kept in his bag. "Let's just get Sam outta here." he tied a square patch of cloth over the jagged tear in his calf, quelling his own pain and nausea in favor of not upsetting Sam further. He worked his pant leg down and got to his feet, testing his leg to see how much of his weight it would bear.

"I'll call Joe to come in as far as he can and pick us up." Jack said. "It lives another day."

"Dean?" Sam was sitting on the fallen tree. He'd regained some color in his cheeks and he was no longer shaking but it was obvious by the way he sat and held himself, he was not ok.

"I'm good Sam but Jack's right, we need to go back and regroup."

Sam nodded, more than happy to return to the cabin. Must be coming down with the flu or something, cause his headache was back, though not as severe as before and his whole body ached. He knew there was something Dean wasn't telling him and wanted to be out of the woods where if needed, hot water and bandages would be plentiful and a decent first aid kit at his immediate disposal.

"Got a hike of about three miles or so, you gonna make it?" Jack asked a white-lipped Dean who, unlike Sam, had not regained any lost color in his face. Just standing on the leg was killing him, there was no way he was going to complete the walk out to where they could get a ride on his own. Jack cast a glance at Sam, not at all sure he'd be capable of being relied upon to help carry his brother out.

"Like there's a choice?" Dean shouldered his backpack and the simple action of added weight caused his knee to buckle. "Fuck."

"Would rather carry you then see you crawl." Jack gathered his own pack. "Sam! Let's go."

Dean nearly made the entire three miles on his own. He probably could have pushed himself to do it, but Sam was so upset over his weakening strength that his attention was focused on Dean and not where he was going, resulting in a trip over a half rotted corpse that left Jack gagging. After that, Dean accepted the help of the two men, mostly because Sam was happier to have a solid hold on him. If Sam happened to be smelly and dirty, Dean was too grateful to have an excuse to accept the help to care.

Once Sam had his arm around Dean and his brother safe by his side, he asked what had happened. He'd convinced himself Dean had faltered because of his bruised shoulder or aching back and though he didn't wish Jack harm, he was relieved to find out it had been Jacks error, not Dean's that had send Dean over the cliff.

***000***

"Go ahead and take a shower Sam." Jack said as the tired, weary bedraggled group of men filed into the sheriff's office. The police department had been a good ten miles closer than traveling to the cabin. "I'll look after Dean." he and the Sheriff supported Dean between them and they let him drop onto a cot in the nearest holding cell. "He'll be ok." Dean had fallen asleep in the car, more than likely from exhaustion brought on by the hike out of the woods but Jack wanted to see the leg wound for himself before he ruled out shock.

"No." Sam shook his head, hair slinging bits of mud, mucus, blood and unknown matter. "I've got him."

"Sam, come on, you're disgusting.  You need to clean up before you go anywhere near him."

"Yeah, yeah…..ok." Sam lingered in the doorway of the cell, unable to walk away while his brother remained unresponsive. "Just…leave him alone, ok? Wait until I get back."

"Sure Sam, he's in some pain, but he's fine. You stink, ain't gonna hurt him further to wait til you shower and change."

"Yeah, sure, but he…..ok, ok. I'm going." Sam headed off to the locker-room where he'd left a change of clothes. Loathe as he was to leave Dean before knowing how he was going to respond, he was not letting anything keep him from hot water, soap and shampoo.

"Coffee?" the Sheriff asked.

"Sounds great Joe, thanks." Jack said. "Might want to order out for some sandwiches."

"Sammy?" Dean stirred with a groan, hand flopping across his forehead. "Son-uva-bitch!" his knees came up as he squirmed about on the cot. "Sam!"

"Fuck." Jack muttered, dropping gun and bag on the desk and going over to the cell. "Figures."

"What's wrong?" the Sheriff came out of his office, responding to and looking for the threat.

"Nothing, sorry, just…..he's coming around."

"That's a good thing, ain't it?"

"Not when he can't have what he wants." Jack stepped into the cell but didn't approach the cot. Jack didn't intend to lose any teeth if Dean came up swinging. "Hey there Dean, how you doing?"

"And what would that be?" Joe asked wasn't at all comfortable around the brothers and if Jack wasn't with them he wouldn't have anything to do with them.

"He's in the shower."

Sam meant to take a quick shower and return to be with Dean but the hot water felt good and the shampoo lather was thick and the soap smelled so good that he couldn't bring himself to get out until he was scrubbed raw. The longer he stood in the shower, the more he replayed the hunt in his mind.

Three men against one unknown creature should have made for an easy hunt. Would have, had Sam not allowed Dean to talk him into letting him go on the hunt in the first place. Dean had revealed an injury from the salt and burn, just as Sam had known there'd been one. Now that Dean was hurt, possibly seriously, Sam meant to take advantage while he was flat on his back and weakened with pain to look him over head to toe and find out just what he had injured.

"Dean, hey, hey, hey, chill dude, it's me, Jack. Sam's in the shower."

"My freaking leg. OW! Mmm. God dammit." he grunted through the pain. "Aaaggh."

"That all that hurts?" Jack asked. "Lay still."

"Huh? Yeah Jack, what?" he struggled to sit up then collapsed against the pillow with a groan. "Shit."

"So, you want to take your jeans off or you want me to cut them off?" Jack asked.  He took the knife Dean held out to him and sliced the leg of his jeans from foot to knee. Dean had been able to pull his pants leg up out in the woods, but swelling had set in since then. "God Dean, what the hell? Roll over."

Dean huffed, not liking to be in such a vulnerable position without Sam there to watch his back. Jack raised his eyebrow, and made a circular motion with his hand.

"Turn over."

Dean eased onto his stomach, holding still while Jack cut up the back of his pants leg and wiggled the knife under the makeshift bandage Dean had tied around his leg out in the woods.

"Ready?" Jack warned and cut through the tourniquet without waiting for a response. "Fuck Dean…Hey! Lay still."

Dean buried his face in the mattress, hands clenched around the bed frame. He laid still, letting Jack poke and prod about his leg, but he couldn't stop himself from tensing up and inching his way up the cot.

Sam came into the room, clean and dressed, rubbing his hair dry with a towel. He came up behind the Sheriff and Jack who were both kneeling on the floor next to the cot in the cell.

"You were supposed to wait for me." Sam sighed, surprised to find Dean had submitted to Jack and was lying quietly with the Sheriff so near.  “I wasn’t that long.”

"Man, Dean, thought you said it was a shallow cut." Jack whistled. "What the hell did this? A stick? Jesus."

"Get your grubby paws off me." Dean slapped at him. "Good God, enough….Jack, I said it wasn't bad, now come on….oh, hey Sammy."

"You smell better." Jack said, back to Sam. "We sent out for some sandwiches…"

"I'll go get some water and bandages, dunno though, looks like he mighta cut through muscle or tendon…any idea on what? Not a smooth wound, huh? Rather jagged which probably means dirt….so I'll find some hydrogen peroxide, get some tweezers, get a candle, better to go poking around in there with a sterilized instrument rather than your finger." Joe didn't like the looks of Dean nor the leg wound. He had a well-stocked first-aid kit, but still….would hurt like a bitch to go digging around in there.

"Gonna need stitches Dean, you got a suture kit Joe?" he asked the Sheriff.

"I do, but the hospital…."

"No." Jack shook his head. "Maybe, but…not yet, let me have a look first."

"Jack, come on, you haven't even gone poking around that wound yet and I can already tell you, it's gonna take several layers to stitch that up."

"I know, it's why I want a suture kit, would rather set dissolvable ones inside, will be easier to do with a circular tip needle as well. It's not bleeding a lot, but I find any debris in there and pop it loose, he could gush like a geyser."

Thud.

Dean twisted onto his back then sat upright on the cot, leg forgotten as both Jack and the Sheriff whirled around, to find Sam in a heap, out cold on the floor.

"Did…did….he just faint?" the Sheriff spoke calmly, reaching a hand out to steady Dean who had gained his feet and stumbled when he put his weight on his bad leg. "Easy there son, don't go falling on him."

"I think so." Jack said slowly. "Well….jeez Dean, what's his problem? Does he usually pass out at the sight of a little blood?"

"You're shitting me." the Sheriff guided Dean back down onto the cot. "Kid falls face first into a bloody, rotting, mangled corpse out in the woods, comes in covered in brains, gore and guts and is fine, sees a bit of blood and hit's the floor? That ain't right."

"Lay back down." Jack told Dean. "He's fine, Joe will see to him, as for you, I dunno Dean. I'll stitch you up, or Sam will and we'll probably be able to do a decent job, but maybe Joe's right and you should go to the ER. Don't wanna find out later there was more damage done to the muscle or tendon than we thought."

“Wait ‘til he comes around.”  Dean sighed.

Sam woke up to find four faces peering down from above him, forming a circle that blocked out all other objects from his blurred vision. Three of the four faces were familiar, the fourth belonging to a young kid who was excitedly asking questions no one was answering. He laid still, blinking as he waited for the world to set itself to rights.

"Hey there." Jack greeted. "Bad time to pick to take a nap."

Sam's eyes wandered, seeking the familiarity that was green eyes and freckles.

"You're ok." Dean said quietly. Sam understood, that meant he hadn't had a seizure or hallucination. Dean would know, he'd seen enough to know. "Dude, seriously, what the hell?"

"Okay Dean, enough, get off that leg." Jack pulled Dean away from Sam and let the Sheriff give Sam a hand sitting up.

"I'm okay." Sam accepted a glass of water and took small sips. "Just, I dunno…I'm good."

"Yeah, well, good, cause he's not." Jack knelt beside Dean who was sitting on the cot. "Dean, I dunno, Sam? You up to taking a look at this?"

No, Sam thought.  Why couldn't he be allowed to remain sitting on the floor and enjoy how good the water felt against his thick and swollen throat that made it difficult to get enough air into his lungs?

"Yeah, what'd you go and do Dean?" he pulled himself across the floor the short distance to the cot inside the cell and told Dean to stand up. "Well, fuck." he fingered the torn skin, afraid to probe too deeply. Dean tensed but remained still, palms braced against the concrete wall. By the time Sam dropped his hand, Dean had pulled as far away from him as he could get, cheek against the wall and imprinted with the concrete design when he collapsed on the cot.

"Just stitch it up." Dean said tiredly. "Get it over with." he wasn't looking forward to it at all, internal stitches hurt.

"One thing I am actually grateful to Dad for is knowing when an injury is beyond my ability to fix. Suck it up dude, you tore that open on a stick, it's deep and it's far from clean, you're going to the ER.”  Sam paused.  “I'll drive."

"Hell no, you won't." Jack scoffed. "You just face planted onto the floor and you lost your lunch in the woods.  Maybe you feel ok now, but what if you have another…..episode or attack while driving?"

Sam hesitated, while he didn't mind meeting up and assisting another hunter with the occasional hunt, he wasn't as eager to allow anyone else close Dean.

"I….." he paused.  He really didn’t want to drive with an injured Dean in the car. He felt a little light-headed and his sense of perception was not on its way to righting itself at all. "Thanks." he accepted the offer despite Dean's voiced protest. "Can drop us off, no need to stay there with us, it’ll probably take a while."

"Sure." Jack wasn't slow or stupid, he knew Sam didn't want him around and was accepting the ride because Sam wasn’t up to driving and he wouldn't do anything to endanger Dean.

"I'll, um….just let me wrap it up with some clean bandages and we'll go."


	5. Chapter 5

The ER wasn't crowded and Sam had no sooner sat down to fill out the required paperwork when they were calling Dean back. Sam waved him off, offering to finish filling out the forms, not ready to face the doctor. Chances were they'd want to at least do X-rays before setting stitches and that would hopefully take a while. Maybe by then, Sam would be able to go back and sit with Dean while they stitched him up without feeling like he was either going to throw up or pass out.

Meanwhile, he could take the time alone to figure out what the hell his problem was and what to do about it. With that leg injury, Dean wouldn't be doing any hiking and hunting for several weeks. Sam supposed he could leave Dean at the cabin while he and Jack continued the hunt, but he didn't feel comfortable leaving Dean alone. His options were few, take Dean and leave, call Bobby to come meet them or leave Dean at the cabin and go with Jack.

He didn't have to track down the nurse and sweet talk his way back to see Dean. A nurse came and got him, saying the doctor wanted to talk to him. Well, that was a first. ER doctors weren't known for being chatty with family members

"No." he heard Dean's voice rife with anger as he walked down the hallway. "I don't care what you think. I don't need nor want any meds."

Sam came around the curtain, finding Dean lying on his belly on a table, propped up on his elbows and disagreeing with whatever the doctor had been saying. "Hey." he greeted. "Start yet?"

"Just about ready to." the doctor said. "You brought him in?"

"Could say that."

"Hiking accident?"

"Yeah, so? Lot of damage?"

"Could be worse, gonna take several sets of stitches, will have to set quite a few inside, but no major damage done to any muscle or tendons, nothing severed anyway. He doesn't want to take any pain relief and I've got to tell you, he's going to be in quite a bit of pain for the next week or so. Might run a slight fever, there's some dirt and slivers of wood that we cleaned out and could result in a slight infection."

"He sounds like I'm gonna go home and go to bed." Dean growled. "Ain't got time to be laid up…"

"You are going home and going to bed." Sam corrected.  "To the cabin anyway."

"Like hell I am.  We have…"

"You aren't going to feel up to do much of anything for a few days." the doctor looked at Sam, holding a syringe of what Sam thought was probably Lidocaine. "You ok to stay?"

"Um, yeah….." he swallowed hard, wiping the sweat from the palms of his hands on the thighs of his jeans. What the hell was his problem? He'd seen more needles in his lifetime than most nursing students. He'd seen his brother stitched up before, had held him down when it'd been done without anything given to numb the wound. Hell, he'd done the stitching himself so why was he now sweating through his clothes at sight of the curved tip needle with black thread in the doctors hand?  "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." but he moved to the other side of the examine table where he could face Dean and avoid having to watch the doctor. "Why don't you want any meds?"

"Cause I don't need them."

"You can write the prescriptions." he told the doctor, smacking Dean on the back of his head to silence his protest. "Shut up."

"I don't need…"

"They'll be mild Dean, and it's not like you have to take them, you'll just have them if you need them."

"He'll need the antibiotic, best if he could get by on Tylenol or its equivalent should there be a fever." the doctor kept up a conversation as he began to stitch. Dean let his head drop onto his arms that were folded under the pillow. He wasn't about to admit it, but he really didn't feel all that good. Sam was there and would answer any questions the doctor had. "He allergic to any medications?"

"AAh…..no. Could he take ibuprofen instead of Tylenol?"

"If you rather he have that instead, sure. Last thing he needs is an infection, might be some swelling, ice might help, might not." the doctor was expecting a reaction from his patient but to his surprise, the man laid still and other than tensing up, remained calm while he began the first intricate set of internal stitches. "You say he's going to be going home for a while? He'll be off work then?"

"Yeah." Sam choked out, causing the doctor to pause and give him a look. "It's just ibuprofen is processed through the kidneys and Tylenol is processed through the liver."

"You ok, son?" the doctor waited for the affirmative nodded then returned to work. "Will probably limp for a week or so, I strongly suggest he stay off his feet until there is no swelling, don't want to tear open any of my delicately set stitches here. Say, two weeks or so, and he should be walking without a limp and no pain."

"But he can walk, right? I mean we're here for just the weekend to hunt with our buddy, we planned on leaving Tuesday." Sam was desperately trying to keep the black dots framing his vision from dumping him onto the floor.

"Pull that stool up and take a seat." the doctor advised. "Won't be too much longer here. Yes, he can walk, I don't suggest running a marathon or going back out hiking in the woods to hunt, last thing he wants to do is pull any of these internal stitches out and cause internal bleeding. Then you're talking possible torn muscle or ruptured tendons which could require surgery."

"Yeah, okay, Doc, got it." Dean cut him off. "Sammy?" he raised his head and turned to look at his brother who had rolled the stool over and sat down.

"Just another headache and it's…….warm in here."

"Another one? Like the one you had couple days ago? Dude, get you to an eye doctor."

"Here, Sam, is it? Your brother's doing just fine, why don't you take these prescriptions down to the hospital pharmacy and get them filled." the doctor scribbled his signature one handed onto the prescription pad being held out to him by a nurse. "We'll be done here by the time you get back."

"Avelox?" Sam took the two slips of paper the girl held out to him and held them up to read. "Isn't that usually given for pneumonia or bronchitis?"

"Any infection caused by bacteria, the wound wasn't clean Sam."

Sam nodded, feeling a little steadier since sitting down he now felt he could get up without danger of hitting the floor. Maybe a walk would help clear his head, get something to drink, water or some juice, maybe even take a quick trip outside.

"Dilaudid?" he went numb, no conscious thoughts or memories remained. "Isn't that like, stronger than morphine? When you said pain relief, I thought you meant Demerol or god, Percocet…." dumb, he was so dumb. Dean had been impaled with a freaking stick, He'd possibly torn or punctured muscle or tendons and tissue. It had been a puncture wound that had torn and while there had been some bleeding, there hadn't been a lot.

The walls closed in, the floor came to meet his face and passed him to join the ceiling. The voices became distant and his hearing fled with his vision.

"You know your medications." the doctor said calmly. "It's just….."

A muffled cry of pain from Dean and he knew nothing else until his subconscious insisted on responding to the repeated frantic calling of his name. A nurse was holding his head between his knees and something cold and wet was being pressed against the back of his neck.

"SAM!"

He raised his head, hearing still muffled but returning, his vision still narrowed but able to see Dean still on his belly on the table, now up on his elbows and the doctor standing with needle in hand, thread still attached to skin, both staring at him in concern.

"Oh god." he bolted off the stool, running from the room, hand over mouth as he headed for a bathroom.

"I've got him?" the nurse questioned the doctor.

"Yes, go, I've got things handled here." the doctor waved her on and Dean laid back down, now antsy. "So, that's your brother?" the doctor asked once Dean was allowed to sit up and was getting dressed. The nurse had returned to say that one of the volunteer aides had taken Sam down to the cafeteria to get him something to drink while he waited for the prescriptions to be filled. "Doesn't handle blood or needles very well, does he?"

"Yeah." he sat back down on the table and allowed the nurse to help him on with his boot. "Wait, what? No, he's fine with all that, really, well usually, I mean, he….huh. I dunno what his problem is lately."

"He's experienced a trauma recently?" the doctor asked casually.

"What makes you say that?"

"I saw the signs. He can handle pain, violence, blood, just about anything as long as it isn't you. He can't handle seeing you hurt, were you in an accident where you were nearly taken from him?"

"Ahh, yeah, guess, couple years ago, he thought I was, aah, dead...he didn't handle it very well."

"Doesn't appear to be doing so well this time around either. I don't want to imagine what it was like for him when he didn't have you."

"Then later, we were apart for a while, separated…"

"Family feud?"

"No, no, he….was away, not by choice, took me awhile to get him back."

"Kidnapping or hostage situations are extremely traumatic."

"Yeah, yeah, guess so."

"I know you aren't eager to go home and take it easy, but if not for your own sake, maybe you can do it for his."

***000***

"Come here." Sam said quietly, sitting at the table in the cabin and watching his brother struggle with the knot in his shoelace that prevented him from removing his boot. He'd be damned if he went over and offered to help him but if Dean were willing to come to him, he'd free the knot. He figured Dean would flip him off and go to bed wearing his boot just to prove his point that he didn't need Sam. He knew Dean was hurting, was in quite a bit of pain and to his knowledge, Dean hadn't taken any of the pain meds Sam had gotten filled. Leave it to Dean to be stupid and stubborn. Served him right to be uncomfortable, dumb ass.

Sam blinked, while he'd been mentally berating the object of his ire, it had come to stand in front of him. Sam spread his knees and patted the empty vee space exposed on the chair. "Gimme your foot." he waited "Dude, put your foot up."

Dean had to brace himself with a palm against the wall in order to balance on one leg and Sam pushed aside the twinge of guilt he felt over making his brother, who was hurt and in pain, get up.

"How you feeling?" Sam asked, holding Dean's ankle when he teetered.

Do you care, was on the tip of Dean's tongue but he was too tired to fight. He just wanted to go lay down. He shrugged, deciding maybe he'd take those meds if Sam offered them to him. He wasn't going to ask and he'd be damned before he took them in front of Sam, but…..

Jack had picked them up at the hospital and they'd returned to the cabin where Dean had crashed on the sofa. He'd made himself a promise after the talk with the doctor that he would have more patience with Sam. Maybe the doc was on to something. He could at least try and understand what the kid was feeling. Told himself he didn't need any of the pain meds because whatever they were, they'd caused Sam to freak out. After all, he hadn't wanted them in the first place.

That had been…when?  Yesterday, hadn't it? He had no idea how long he'd been asleep, passed out, whatever, on the sofa. Funny how one could be so adamant and brash in the ER, mouthing off they didn't need anything or anyone and then go home and only want the pain meds they'd originally refused and to know someone was nearby and not be alone.

"You gonna go to bed now?" Sam pulled the laces loose, lifted Dean's foot from the seat of the chair and pulled the boot off. "You know, maybe take those pain meds and try and get some sleep?"

Dean curled his hands and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, giving Sam a one shoulder shrug.

"You should eat something." Sam offered cautiously, somewhat stunned Dean was being so cooperative. "Got some cookies, the fudge striped ones you like, maybe with a glass of milk?" he hid a grin when Dean nodded, eyes heavy lidded with weariness. "Yeah, well, after all, you will only ever be eleven." he muttered to himself.  “Sit.”

"What?"

"Nothing, here, sit." he wasn't reconciled to Dean taking such a heavy pain med, but the prescription wasn't refillable and was meant to be short-term, every three to five hours for three days. Wouldn't be like Dean would be going anywhere and Sam had no intentions of leaving him so he would be there to monitor how often Dean took the pain meds.  Nor was he thrilled with the idea of Dean taking both the pain meds and the antibiotic at the same time. The doctor had insisted, when taken according to the prescription directions, there'd be no complications. The Wendigo or whatever the hell it was would just have to wait. "Dean, no alcohol, not even beer, you hearing me?"

He nodded, all fight and attitude gone. He'd crashed and could do nothing but follow Sam about, listening and agreeing because he no longer cared about taking care of himself.

"Don't chew it either." it amazed him how Dean could dry swallow coated aspirin and ibuprofen, yet have trouble swallowing a prescription pill with water. "Don't make a face, you're the one who didn't want the prescription filled as a suppository."

"Fuck you." god damn, he didn't feel good. Some time while he'd been asleep, his heart had moved from his chest to his leg and kicked up its tempo. He could feel his skin pulsating against the palm of his hand, through both a bandage and his jeans when he lowered his hand to hold his leg in an attempt to ease the throbbing.

"Better hope taking those two meds together don't make you sick or you just might find yourself with a medication in a form you don't want." he ducked a balled up paper towel tossed at his head with a chuckle. Long as Dean was letting him close, letting him take care of him, Sam was pretty sure he could manage Dean being hurt. Fairly sure. If Dean chose to shut him out or push him away or worse, wanted to leave…no, Sam was not going there, would not allow himself to think like that.

Neither spoke of Sam's episode at the ER or referred to his meltdown. Sam chose to believe he didn't remember it and Dean felt he understood why it had happened after his talk with the doctor. The argument that had cracked his soul wide open, made sense now. Sam needed Dean to be there for him and whether he wanted to be or not, he would be. Time would pass, Sam would get better, grow stronger and Dean just had to hang in there until Sam was strong enough to be ok on his own. He could do that, he would do that.

"Done eating? Then come on." Sam pulled Dean from the chair and steadied him once he was on his feet. He didn't even have to say anything, Dean allowed himself to be led back to their room, where, with his boots off, he easily shucked his jeans and crawled onto his cot. Sam sat down on his own, the space between the cots so narrow, his knees bumped against the other mattress. It didn't take long, less than ten minutes and Dean was asleep. Sam didn't get up and leave. He felt the need to stay where he was for a while longer.

***000***

Two days later, Sam came out of their room to join Jack and the Sheriff in the kitchen. "Okay Jack, guess I'm ready." Sam shouldered his backpack. "Just….let him sleep, he'll be a bit cranky when he wakes up, might improve his mood if you feed him." he eyed the seventeen year old son of the Sheriff. "If he doesn't want to eat, at least push him to drink, just nothing red, red dye makes him sick."

"You sure you should be leaving him?" Joe asked. "He, um was rather pissed when…I mean….you…"

"He'll be ok." Sam assured the concerned father. He didn't blame the man for being uncertain over leaving Dean alone with his son. Dean had been irritable all morning, in pain and denying it so Sam wouldn't force him to take meds he didn't want. It hadn't worked and while Dean could usually best Sam in a wrestling match, he hadn't been up to it when Sam had ignored both his warnings and his protests and wrestled the pill into his mouth.

Dean didn’t know why Sam had suddenly decided to force the pain meds on him and when he was able to stand up and his leg supported his weight without pain, he intended to find out. He didn't really remember that he had willingly taken the meds the first day and half back from the ER. Doubted that he had, because while he wasn't usually against taking aspirin or ibuprofen, he didn't like to take anything stronger. Certainly not when he was about to be left alone with a seventeen year old kid while his brother went off with two men he barely knew to hunt down a creature both smarter and stronger than any mere human.

"He's mad at me, he won't take it out on Kyle." Sam had remained with Dean the past two days to ensure he didn't have a negative or allergic reaction to either medication and no infection set in. Other than mild nausea, slight dizziness, lack of appetite and a tendency to sleep, there'd been no side effects or reactions and now that he wasn't taking the pain meds as often, Sam was ok leaving him to go after the Wendigo.

"We'll have the satellite phone Kyle." Joe told his son. "Anything happens, you need me, he needs his brother, you call me, you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Two days." Jack said. "See you in two days."


	6. Chapter 6

"Sam?"

Sam turned back, cursing to see Dean gripping the doorframe in order to keep his balance, swaying unsteadily, pure determination keeping him on his feet. Four days ago, he'd wanted to be as far as away from his brother as he could get, had considered leaving him to sleep in a car so he wouldn't have to be in the same room as him. Now? Now it was taking everything he had to walk away from him.

"What are you doing up?" if only Dean hadn't been so...willing to allow Sam to fuss. If only he hadn't taken the meds and been content to remain in bed, to let Sam….be there, maybe then Sam wouldn't feel so damn bad about leaving him.

"Sam?" he took a step from the doorway but without its support, he fell sideways into the wall. "You're really going?" he finally understood what the backpack slung over Sam's shoulder meant. "You're gonna...leave me here alone with a kid?"

"His name is Kyle. Let's go Jack." he turned his back on his brother, otherwise, he would have been at his side, pushing him back into the room and down onto the cot. He couldn't cave now, not when they were packed and ready to go, plans made.

"SAM!" Dean growled.  He pushed away from the wall and walked his way over to the sofa, grabbing anything along the way that offered him support. "You're not going out there alone!"

"He's not going alone Dean." Jack said calmly. "Joe and I will be with him."

"NO!" Jack was a decent hunter but Dean didn't know anything about the Sheriff. Trusting Jack to watch his back was one thing, trusting him to watch Sam's wasn't something Dean was ok with.

"Dean, look, sooner this thing is put down, the sooner we can leave. You know it's not such a good idea for us to stay in one place for long. We gotta get on the road." Sam paused at the door. The pill would soon take effect and Dean would go down. One thing about his brother and pain meds; they knocked him out. "I'll be back in two days, okay? Whether it's dead or not, I'll be back and we'll leave."

_"I'd never just leave you Dean, I don't know why you think that, I mean, yeah, I did, do, probably will, leave, I mean, BUT I'll always come back."_

"You wanna go back to bed before we leave or pass out on the sofa?" Jack asked, taking hold of Dean by his upper arm. He'd expected Sam to do it, but he had the door open and one foot through it.

"Dude…" he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, now slick with sweat. He tried to jerk his arm free from Jack's grasp but couldn't stop Jack from dragging him around the couch and dropping him down onto his back.

Dean might have missed the look to cross Sam's face at Jack's manhandling but the Sheriff hadn't. If Joe had come to understand one thing during the few days he'd spent around the brothers it was no one had better come between them. Pity the fool who tried.

"Good luck Kyle." Sam went out the front door, leaving Jack and the Sheriff to follow. He knew if he didn't walk away now, he wouldn't go. Had Dean called his name or even sighed heavily, nothing would have made Sam leave, but when only silence followed him out the door, he left.

***000***

The three men drove roughly five miles before they left the vehicle and continued on foot. Sam was quiet, sitting in the back seat, thoughts elsewhere as Jack and the Sheriff discussed the upcoming hike. Sam wasn't sure what Dean had more issues with; being left with some kid or Sam going without him.

" _Kinda gotten used to it Sammy, go, stay, don't matter no more."_

_Dean might as well have kicked Sam in the gut then speak those words. Sam had never wanted to take the time and think about how the way he chose to deal with his issues affected Dean. Hadn't Dean always put Sam and his needs and wants ahead of his own? The last cookie, enough money for one pair of new boots, cartoons on the single television, the extra blanket in the backseat of the Impala._

_Yet, if he didn't leave to cope, to get his own feelings and emotions under control, how was he supposed to be strong enough to handle Dean's?_

"Sound like a plan to you Sam?" Jack turned slightly in the front passenger seat to face Sam.

"Sure." he blinked, forcing his attention back to the present.

"You with us?" Jack asked. "He'll be ok Sam, I mean, he was fine all those years you were gone….." he stopped at the look to cross the younger man’s face. "Touchy subject, huh?"

The Sheriff, who was watching Sam in the rearview mirror, saw the same look cross Sam's face he'd seen at the cabin when Jack had thrown Dean down onto the sofa just before they'd left.

"You wanna pick my brain for knowledge and lore and question my experience, fine, but you leave Dean and our personal lives out of any conversation, you got me?"

"Easy Sam, relax man, didn't mean to get you all riled up. Just saying….."

"Well, don't." Sam said stonily. "Don't say anything." he didn't mean to be harsh or take Jack's head off, but no one was going to throw in his face, his leaving his brother to go to college. That privilege belonged to Dean and to Dean alone.

"You and your brother are close?" Joe asked, parking the truck and shutting off the engine. Jack had led him to believe Sam was quieter, softer, and gentler of the two brothers; the one more apt to be sympathetic and understanding. Sure, if Jack said so, cause Joe sure didn't see it. "We'll be walking from here."

"Close enough." Sam pulled his backpack from the truck and picked up his duffel. He wasn't looking forward to spending the night in the woods and hoped they were able to finish the job and return to the cabin that evening. He made a mental note to get with Dean and find a way to get a satellite phone or two of their own.

"You left to go to college." Jack pushed, might as well find out as much as he could. "Stanford, Dean said, pre-law."

"Tried. Never really took to hunting the way Dean did, I mean, Dad was driven by grief and then revenge, maybe even vengeance, I wanted out."

"Then how come you went back? Why'd you do that? I mean Stanford? You don't just walk away from an education like that." Joe still felt uncomfortable with Sam. He trusted Jack, but could find no faith or trust in a man whose thoughts might be elsewhere when his life depended upon that man’s ability to focus.

"You do when what matters to you most is not there." Sam veered off the path, putting distance between him and the two men. A clear indication he was through talking.

"That's right, you lost your girlfriend." Jack pursued him. "She died in a fire, right?"

Sam turned around and gave him a look that clearly told Jack he was venturing onto dangerous territory. "Yeah, girlfriend, right."

"So Sam, you sure about your brother?" Joe asked.

"What's your problem?" Sam stopped and turned so suddenly that Joe took a step back. "What about him?"

"Just, he seems to be a man with some problems."

"Let's just find this thing and finish this." Sam started walking. "Sooner we get back, the better."

"Now Sam, Dean will be fine for a few days on his own." Jack caught up to him. "Best he stay off that leg anyway."

"Wow. You just don't get it, get him, do you?" Sam shook his head. "You said two days Jack and he means two days. If we aren't back, he'll come looking for us."

"How?" the Sheriff demanded. "He's laid up…..those pain meds pretty much knock him out. I don't know what the doc sent him home on, but…"

"Won't matter. He's not going to take any pain meds while I'm gone and if does, he can fight through their effects when he wants too."

"Sam, come on….he has how many internal stitches?" Jack laughed. "Sides, the two of you ain't exactly getting along these days."

Sam stopped again. "Doesn't matter if we aren't speaking to one another, are mad at each other or hate each other. If I'm missing, he'll come after me, if you hurt him, I will take you down, if you fuck with us, we'll ruin your life. Anything else you wanna say Jack?"

***000***

Dean woke slowly, fighting through the layers of heaviness that cloaked him in comfort. He wanted to sink back into that heavy depth like he had previously, but this time, there was no safe place to retreat and no comfort to be found. Giving up, he blinked his eyes open and gave them time to adjust to the faint light that was cast by the fireplace.

"Hi." said a male voice that was vaguely familiar. Kyle sat at the kitchen table and watched Dean come to awareness. Sam had warned him to remain out of striking distance when Dean began to show signs of waking up; told him to begin talking as soon as Dean started moving. "You've been sleeping awhile."

No shit. Dean worked saliva into his dry mouth. Knock your ass out with pain meds and see how long you stayed awake.

"You thirsty? Sam said you'd probably want to drink a lot, said it's an effect of the pills."

Sam would know. He would have thoroughly researched any medication that had been prescribed and if he hadn't agreed that it was the best medication for the symptoms or injury, doctor prescribed or not, he wouldn't have given them to Dean.

"Said they'd make you sleep a lot, and guess he was right, you've done nothing but sleep since he brought you home from the ER. Been two days now."

Right, the Sheriff's kid. Sam had gone back out hunting with Jack and the Sheriff. Dean hadn't asked him to stay, he hadn't offered and that had been...two days ago?

"Two days?" he croaked. Leg was still there, all fiery and fury, pulsing and undulating and throbbing. Ow.

"Yeah, well I mean no. They only left this morning. Jack and Dad wanted to go right away, soon as you were back from the ER. Sam told them to go ahead, but Jack wanted Sam to go with them, something about the more experience the better." Kyle had come over to the sofa with a plastic cup in one hand. "Sam said he wasn't going until he knew you weren't gonna throw any kind of severe reaction to either medication. That was two days ago."

So, the son-of-a-bitch had truly gone. Dean understood why he had, knew the Wendigo or whatever it turned out to be, had to be put down but that didn't mean he had to like it. He pushed himself up enough that he could sink back into the corner of the sofa and take the cup from the kid and drink from it without spilling any.

"Is this tea?" he made a face. God, he hated tea.

"Raspberry iced tea, yeah, would you rather have lemonade?"

"Only if it's Mike's Hard Lemonade." course, that would break Sam's number one rule while on pain meds. No alcohol. As he became more awake, more events from the past two days came back to him. Sam had been there, hadn't actually been talking to him, but he'd been there. Dean remembered the ER, remembered coming back to the cabin and…that was it. Everything else came to him in bits and hazy pictures and distant words.

Sam leaving him at the bathroom door. Jack helping him limp across the floor. His nose being held and pills shoved into his mouth. His leg being unwrapped and re-bandaged. Being forcefully turned onto his stomach and ice being applied to the back of his leg. More pills. Right, those wonderful, wonderful pills he hadn't wanted, Sam had insisted on, then freaked out over. Those pills.

If Sam had left him, then he would have left the meds with the kid. While he had decided Dean had needed them the first two days home from the ER, Dean could be damned sure Sam had decided he didn't need them as often now.

"One pill every six hours after eight o'clock if you want one." Kyle said helpfully. Had Dean been thinking out loud? No, the kid was just citing Sam's rules. "Sam says no alcohol, not even beer."

"Course not." Dean muttered. So, was Sam's plan to keep him doped up on pain meds until he returned?

"He left me enough pills for two days, if you take one every six hours between the hours of 8 p.m. and 8 a.m."

Nope, only if needed then.

"Course Sam says you still have to take your antibiotic. There's no sign of infection and Sam says he wants it to stay that way." Kyle reached for the cup but Dean hugged it possessively. "It's cool man, you can keep it. I thought you were done is all."

"Time is it?"

"Little after two, you slept all day, but you can't have another pill until eight tonight. Sam says you're leaving soon as he gets back. Kinda wish you guys were sticking around a little longer. Jack says you two are among the best hunters out there, me and my dad, we don't know all that much, but we're learning. Kinda gotta when something is eating people in your woods, right?"

"We're leaving?" the kid talked so fast, Dean couldn't keep up with everything he was saying, catching words here and there.

"Yup, Sam says…."

"Yeah, kid, ok." one more Sam says and the contents of his cup were being flung in the kids face. He shifted uneasily, leg deciding it had been ignored long enough.

"You hungry?" Kyle asked. "More to drink?"

"Nah, gonna sleep for a bit." he let the kid take the cup and squirmed his way down the sofa until he was lying down. He closed his eyes, blowing his breath out, wondering why he didn't feel so good. Sleep didn't come, he drifted in and out of awareness, listening to the kid move about.

He'd been stabbed before, never life threatening, but bad enough to require stitches and not once, had he ever felt pain like this before. According to the kid, if he'd followed the conversation correctly, he'd been hurt three days ago. The first day back from the ER, Sam had forced the pain meds on him. Yesterday, he'd taken them willingly and today, he wasn't supposed to take any until night.

"Hey, you ok?" Kyle stood some distance away. "Thought you said you were gonna sleep."

He'd wanted to, his body though, hadn't agreed. Sleep hadn't come, oblivion hadn't come, all that had come was hazy consciousness infiltrated by pain. He stirred restlessly, why now, was he feeling sick? Could it be the lack of the pain meds? He hadn't been aware of making the soft moans, occasional groans and sounds of pain that had alerted Kyle he was not asleep.

He lifted his head as his stomach rolled. Good Christ, he was going to be sick. No amount of pain had ever made him sick before.

***000***

"Kyle, what's up?" Joe moved away from the camp fire to answer the phone. It was going on ten o'clock and they'd made camp and were cleaning up from dinner. He hadn't expected to hear from his son who knew the satellite phone was for emergencies.

"Dad, is, eh, Sam there?"

"Yeah, what's wrong? Dean giving you trouble?"

"No, no Dad, hell, it's just…can I please talk to Sam?"

"Okay, yeah, hey Sam! Kyle called in, you wanna talk to Dean?"

"Not really." Sam sighed, sure that Dean had insisted on placing the call and only wanted to grill him on how things were going. "What does he want?"

"Why don't you talk to Kyle first?" Joe handed the phone over then pulled Jack aside.

"Kyle? Hey, you doing ok?"

"Yeah, it's just…he…I dunno Sam, maybe you shouldn't have left him, you know?"

"Why, he giving you a hard time?"

"No, well, not really, but I gotta say, you didn't warn me he'd be puking all day."

"He what?" sick? Dean was sick? He hadn't been sick when Sam had been with him, not from infection or reaction to either medication, why would he be sick now? "He awake?"

"No. Mrs. Gregor said he passed out."

"Who is Mrs. Gregor? What do you mean, passed out?"

"She brought over some stew for dinner, thought we might be hungry, she works at the station with Dad…."

"Kyle, did Dean ask you to call? Did he want to talk to me?"

"No, I thought maybe talking to you would, you know, calm him down, least Mrs. Gregor thought it might."

"Passed out?" Sam had forced the pain pill on Dean 8 o'clock that morning. If he'd gone all day refusing another, he'd spent the day in pain. Dumb ass. Yeah, he'd told Kyle when to give Dean the pills, but he'd also said if Dean asked or was in a lot of pain, to go ahead and give him one when needed. It'd been the first day Dean had gone without pain meds, Sam was sure he couldn't be feeling good but that shouldn't make him sick. Sam kicked himself for ever thinking it was ok to leave Dean alone the first day he went without meds. He'd finally fallen asleep, passed out, whatever, due to exhaustion. Sam didn't like that, didn't like it at all. "Don't suppose he took any more pain meds?"

"No. Woke up around two, andwas thirsty, said he wanted to go back to sleep, but never did, been puking since."

Sam rubbed his forehead, dammit, not now. Why did he feel like the world’s worst heel for leaving a grown man alone? Dean had been fine for two days, some nausea but no vomiting. He couldn't be sick from nerves, could he? Dean wasn't happy Sam had made the decision to go with Jack and the Sheriff. It had nothing to do with Sam leaving him behind, it was all about Sam hunting with two men, one of whom Dean didn't know or trust. Wasn't it? Bottom line, Sam had no idea how well Dean actually trusted Jack and wasn't at all sure how Dean was dealing with being left alone. Alone, not behind.

"Just leave him alone Kyle, ain't much you can do for him anyway." he was not going to get upset, he was not going to freak out. Dean was fine, he was safe, he was ok. Maybe he wasn't with Sam but hell, Sam wasn't the only person in the world who could take care of him. Cause, how hard was it to….. "Kyle, you said he woke up thirsty….." he closed his eyes, he knew, he just knew. "What did you give him?" couldn't the kid follow one simple instruction? Apparently, _he was_ the only person capable of taking care of his brother.

"Raspberry iced tea….."

Sam cursed, kicking at a nearby tree. "Made with fruit juice, right? Dammit Kyle! I said no red dye! Can't you…..Aauugh!" he held his palm against his forehead. Every bone in his body had told him not to go on the hunt and he'd gone anyway. He'd ignored every instinct that had told him not to leave his brother and had walked out. He'd known Dean wouldn't take the pain meds while Sam could be in possible danger. It was his fault his brother was in pain and being tormented from something that never should've happened. Wouldn't have had Sam stayed with him. "Water Kyle, give him water!" he threw the phone at Joe and staggered off into the woods.

"Kyle? What's really going on?" Joe asked. "Talk to me son, what's wrong?" he glared in the direction Sam had disappeared.

"Nothing Dad, it's just, he doesn't sleep. I don't dare go near him, cause if I startle him, he's throwing punches. I gotta make sure he knows who I am before I get within distance of him."

"Has he threatened you? Kyle, did he hurt you?"

"No, NO, I don't mean I feel physically threatened, it's just, he's in and out of it, you know? Man the pain he's in, the shit he's gone through, the things he's done, what he's seen and dealt with and knows about. Scary, to know someone has gone through something like that. Man Dad, I don't know how Sam does it, how he deals with it all."

"Does what?"

"Be with him Dad, handles living with that. I dunno, God."

***000***

Four aspirin later and Sam was finally able to lie down and close his eyes without feeling like he needed to vomit. He needed to get his head together and focus on this hunt or someone was going to get hurt. Again. Sam wanted this hunt done and over so he could go get Dean and take him someplace where Sam felt safe and wouldn't have to leave him until he could take care of himself.

What he wanted to do and had to fight against, was pack up, walk back to the truck and return to the cabin. He flopped about in his sleeping bag, talking himself out of leaving, telling himself the reasons he needed to stay and see this job through. If he'd actually talked to Dean, heard any affliction of pain in his voice, he'd already be back at the cabin.

They were sleeping in shifts, each taking a four hour watch, with Sam relieving Joe and Jack taking the last shift. Sam didn't sleep well yet he knew the second he opened his eyes, something was different from when he'd fallen asleep. He smelled coffee and felt the heat from a fire so he knew he wasn't alone but by the time he'd sat up, he knew, without being told, Joe was gone.

"Something you want to tell me Jack?" Sam crawled out of the sleeping back and stood up to stretch. He kept his voice calm, but the look on his face promised violence if he didn't like what he heard.

"Morning Sam."

"Where is he?"

Jack stirred the soup he'd poured into a pan hung over the fire for breakfast. He'd been uneasy with Joe's decision to leave them and return to the cabin to be with Kyle. He wasn't sure how Sam was going to take it. Joe had promised not to take Kyle and leave Dean alone but somehow he didn't think that was going to pacify Sam.

"You've got one minute Jack."

"He went back." Jack removed the pan from the hook over the fire, set it aside and stood up. He moved back a couple steps, gave it some consideration, then moved further away from Sam.

"Why?"

"He was a little unsure about Kyle remaining with Dean by himself."

"Whose fault is that? Whose fault he got hurt? Whose fault I had to leave him alone and come back out here? Do you think I wanted to? Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to do that? I put this town and the Sheriff ahead of what I want, of what Dean needs and Joe just leaves? How can you be ok with that? You know the life of a hunter Jack, you know how hard it is. Dean's been through enough shit, he doesn't need to deal with this."

"And just what is it he has to deal with Sam? You've had a bug up your ass since you got here."

"He's hurt, because of you, and he has to trust you to watch my back. He's taking an addictive pain med that makes him dizzy and knocks him out. Not taking it leaves him in so much pain, he can't even sleep."

"What's the big deal about the damn pain meds? You said Dean was ok, Sam." Jack was trying not to get angry. He didn't understand why Sam was so upset. "I don't know what's going on between the two of you, but leave it out of this hunt. Far as I can tell, the only issues he's dealing with are your attitude and an unfortunate accident that laid him up."

"Kyle is a grown kid and Dean would never do anything to hurt him. I sure as hell wouldn't have left Dean, _at all, with anyone_ , if he were a danger to them."

"Sam, come on, calm down. We don't need Joe to hunt this thing down….."

"It has nothing to do with this hunt." Sam clenched his fists. "It has everything to do with Joe showing up at the cabin and Dean finding out he left me out here alone with you! You think I was talking shit when I said Dean would come after us if he felt something had gone wrong?"

"He won't, he can't…Christ Sam, nothing has gone wrong! He tries hiking out here on that leg…..Oh." **now** he understood Sam's anger. Dean would not take Joe's return well. Once he found out Joe had taken the satellite phone with him, he would be on his way to find Sam. "Sam, he tore that leg up pretty good. Now I know Dean is stubborn but come on, he isn't stupid. He goes hiking on that leg, he is going to tear those internal stitches out. He was lucky there was no muscle or tendon damage, but he won't be so lucky again."

"Dean won't know if something goes wrong, you let Joe take the phone." Sam stalked closer to him. "Some kid who has barely begun to shave is no danger from Dean and you know that. There was no reason for Joe to go back, why didn't you talk him out of it?"

"Sam."

"Why didn't you keep the phone?"

"Sam."

"You know what? Save it, just shut up and stay away from me."

"Sam, come on, you don't know…."

"I know my brother Jack! I know when he's in pain and hiding it. I know when the pain is too much for him to handle and when he needs help. I know how much he can take and I know when a doctor is needed! I know when he bites his lip and refuses to look me in the eye or ducks his head he's going to break! I know he's allowing me to have my way because he can't fight me anymore and that scares the shit out of me!" his chest was heaving. "The only thing Joe going back to the cabin is going to accomplish is making Dean come out here after me."

"How? Tell me how the hell he can do that?"

"Anything happens to him and you better find someplace to hide where it'll be too much trouble for me to try and find you."

"Nothing is going to happen to him because he is not going to come after you." and here Jack had thought of Sam as some gentle giant. "There's no way he can, not on that leg. If anyone is in danger of being hurt, it's you….." and he got it. Instead of two men good with a gun looking after Dean's kid brother, there was now one; the one who had already make a mistake while on the hunt that had caused Dean to be injured. The one who was the reason Dean wasn't with Sam. Aw, shit.

"Yeah." Sam looked like he could rip Jack's head from his shoulders. "Got it?"

"Sam, look, all is good, really. Joe will not let him come out here."

"There's no way Joe can stop him. Without me there, he'll choose being clear-headed over pain relief. I promised to return in two days, and now I have no way of contacting him should there be a delay. He'll come after me Jack and if he in any way is hurt, hurt further, there'll be no place you or Joe can hide from me."


	7. Chapter 7

Sam stood at the edge of a stream, having washed up in the cold water. He heard Jack come to stand behind him and waited for him to speak.

"So? We good to go on, or are we going back?"

"When did Joe leave?" Sam didn't turn to look at him. The way he figured it, Joe would have left soon as Jack had relieved Sam and Sam had fallen asleep. That would have been around six that morning and it was now after ten. That would put Joe back at the cabin anytime now. It was only a five mile drive once Joe hiked back down to the truck.

 Assuming he made it back to the truck.

"Around 6:30."

"You do what you need to Jack. I don't want him out here so I'm going back."

"Sam, you're over-reacting. Since when don't you want your brother’s help on a hunt? Ok, maybe you two had a fight or whatever, but come on...are you so mad at him you don't even want to be around him?"

"You are fucking clueless." Sam spat angrily. "This has nothing to do with the hunt. Do you really want him out here? I agreed to come with you, agreed to leave him to help you. I accepted your assurances Kyle was a responsible kid, and okay, yeah, he stayed with Dean despite the rough day he had, but dammit Jack, Dean never should have had to go through what he did. Had I stayed with him, like I should have, he wouldn't have. That's on me."

"So is this about you leaving him behind or about him freaking Kyle out yesterday? Christ, he's fine, he was feeling well enough when we left, was even walking on his own. You two have barely spoken to one another since you got here and now you gotta run back and hold his hand? What the hell is that all about?" Jack was beginning to get angry. "Hell, you left him at the ER!"

"It's about a kid who doesn't have enough common sense to realize raspberry flavored juice contains red dye!"

"You know, I've always heard the rumors about the two of you having some great hunting partnership, but I don't see it. Dean hunted without you for several years. Either alone or with your old man, and you know what? He was fine, he didn't need you Sam!"

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Jesus, you grew up fucked, you know that?"

Sam seethed.

" _Yeah, well, that's great Sammy, so glad to know, you've come to terms with your shitty childhood."_

" _Where the hell is this coming from?"_

_Dean held a palm up; already over the edge he'd fall if Sam said one more word. "Don't."_

_Sam blinked, chewing on the inside of his mouth. He'd wanted Dean to talk, to share, to confide and now that he was, Sam wasn't sure he'd be able to handle hearing what he said. He'd never heard this tone of voice from Dean before and he didn't like it, it scared the living hell out of him._

" _It wasn't just my childhood Dean, yours was no better. No one should have to grow up the way we did."_

" _We didn't exactly grow up the same way now did we Sammy?"_

" _Don't do that, don't taunt me. You chose to keep me in the dark, to protect me as long as you did, that's on you!"_

" _You know Sam, you're right, you always had me, there isn't a time you can say you didn't." tears, to Sam's horror, welled in his brother’s eyes. "I was always there for you, too bad you can't say the same."_

" _That's not true." Sam whispered defensively. "You know it's not."_

" _Yeah? Where the hell were you then, when I…" his voice broke and he turned away. "Who did I have Sam? Huh? Who the hell did I ever have?"_

_When you what Dean? But Sam was too scared to voice that particular question out loud, and once again, he watched his brother walk away from him. Would it ever get any easier watching him do that?_

_And I was there. Always. Maybe not in the way you needed, but you only ever let me so close and never took what I was offering._

"You don't know anything about us." Sam was back at the campsite and was packing. "I'm not going to risk losing him Jack, I won't go through that again…I can't."

"What do you mean, again?"

"You know? I kinda feel like I went and I dunno…left my kid in daycare with strangers or something." he shouldered his backpack. Damn clerk at the motel had put all kinds of thoughts into his head. "I don't understand why I feel like that Jack. I shouldn't.  Never have before and I don't like it. All I can think to do, all I want to do, is go back and get him."

"Sam, I'm telling you, he's fine, Joe will be there to handle anything Dean can throw at him."

"You want him to see him kill himself coming out here after me? I'm not gonna let that happen."

"Sam…."

"I'm going back, do what you need to."

"You are unbelievable! You know that? Enough Sam, Jesus Christ, Dean is a grown man, he's what thirty-two?  Thirty-three? He sure as hell doesn't need you sitting around watching him sleep! What the hell makes you think he even wants you around? Now, suck it up, man up and help me find and kill this damn thing! Or are you saying you ain't the hunter your brother is?" he wasn't expecting, nor did he see it coming, the right fist that Sam let loose. Next thing Jack knew, he was sprawled on his ass in the weeds, jaw aching, lip bleeding. "What the hell you hitting me for?"

Sam flexed his right hand. "We get back to the cabin, we'll pack up and clear out. This hunt is your problem, once we're gone, lose our number."

***000***

Dean pushed himself over onto his back with a groan, the exertion needed to roll over left him breathless. He rubbed at his eyes, wrinkling his nose over the disgusting taste in his mouth. Shit, what the hell had he done to cause himself to feel worse than he had the time he'd woken up hung over from mixing shots of tequila and vodka?

"Oh Gawd!" he moaned, man, his belly hurt. "Sammy!" he swallowed a couple times, thinking it would dislodge the lump in his throat. It didn't. "Sam?" his throat was raw and he winced, wanting some water. Once his eyes focused, he recognized the room at the cabin he was sharing with Sam and he rose up on his elbows to look out the door. "SAM!" he flopped back down and cast a glance over at his brother’s cot. Oh, right, his brother wasn't there, had left him to go back out hunting with Jack. Because Sam would rather be anywhere, doing anything with anyone than be with him.

That wasn't fair, the job came first, always had, always would. The kid, what was his name? He should be about somewhere, had been in the cabin with him until Dean, finally overcome by exhaustion and pain, had passed out.

He remembered the day before. And he wasn't confused, it had been the day before. At some point, it had been dark and now it was day light, so apparently, he'd slept through some part of the night. He'd spent hours, most of the day, really, hanging off the edge of the sofa, puking into a bucket Kyle had sat on the floor after he'd fallen limping to the bathroom.

At some point, the kid had switched from tea to water which had stayed down and his stomach had stopped trying to climb out of his body via his throat. That was the last he remembered. He swallowed again, throat no better.  Damn, he hated iced tea, was never going to drink it again. Ever.

"Hey." Kyle was in the doorway. "Morning."

"Kid." he worked his way to a sitting position, swung his feet to the floor and rested his back against the wall. "Shit, man." his leg was still a bitch.  The constant throbbing caused his thigh muscles to cramp and his toes to go numb. Damn, he'd been hoping he'd wake up and find it feeling better, at least giving him less pain, but the throbbing ache hadn't let up at all.

All he needed to do was gather his strength and coordinate a walk to the bathroom. Maybe once there, brush his teeth, wash his face then crawl back to bed. He was sticky, tacky actually, with dried sweat. A quick sniff of one raised arm told him he should probably shower. He eyed the skinny kid hovering in the doorway. He remembered Sam at that age, all awkward and gangly limbs and oh yeah, no oomph in the ass. Should Dean face plant in the shower, no way was that kid picking him up off the floor.

"Um." Kyle shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back again, eyes on the floor. "Hey."

That was it? Kid lost his ability to speak overnight? Dean inched his ass to the edge of the cot. Put a gun to his head now and he still wouldn't admit how he felt. Maybe it was a good thing Sammy wasn't around. He'd only need to take one look at his brother to know that Dean was feeling like shit.

" _I know you Dean, better than you know yourself. You got hurt on that salt and burn but you won't admit it, will you? You're an ass, but I know, I will always know when you're hurt or upset or when something is bothering you."_

" _You just know everything, don't you?"_

" _When it comes to you, yeah, I do. You don't do anything you don't want to do and you sure as hell don't let anyone just do whatever the hell they want too either."_

" _Is that so?"_

" _Yeah, it is, and you know something else? I can see right through your act. You're barely hanging on and you keep pushing me away cause you think one of these days, I'll leave and I won't come back. That if you don't let me close, you won't get hurt when that happens. This is the last time I'm going to say this, so GET IT THROUGH YOUR FUCKING HEAD, I will NEVER just walk out of your life! The only way that's ever gonna happen, is if I die... again. I'm here, Dean, I'm right here!" Sam thumbed the one tear from his cheek he couldn't stop from escaping. "You can do your best to push me away, to make me walk, to leave you and sometimes, you'll probably succeed but there's nothing you can say or do that will make me stay away. You can never make me hate you."_

"No, I'm not hungry. No, I don't want anything to eat. No, there's nothing you can do for me." he could do it. Ten short steps to the bathroom. Five minutes to pee, gargle with mouthwash, and splash cold water on his face. Cause, gotta face it, there was no way he was going to be able to put toothpaste on a toothbrush and find his mouth. Wasn't gonna happen. Hot water and soap would require standing longer than he was capable of remaining on his feet.

He sat. He didn't want to get up, he wanted to lie down, pull the pillow over his head and go back to sleep. He wanted…..hell, he wanted a bag of ice and his pain pills. He didn't want to worry about Sam being out on a hunt without him. He…..oh fuck it, he wanted Sam and it wasn't only because he was uneasy about Sam being out in the woods with only Jack and the inexperienced Sheriff for back up. Shit, he blinked, he sure as hell wasn't about to cry about it either.

It wasn't that he minded being alone, or left with strangers. It was just….he hated having to ask for whatever he wanted. He was used to it being offered and it being safe to take it, unlike the well-meaning offer of ice tea.  He didn't want to have to pay attention to what he was doing, or what he was being given. He didn't want to ask for a hand getting up or be denied a shower or hot water simply because the kid didn't know what to do or what it was Dean wanted.

Had Sam been there, Dean wouldn't have had to ask, simple thought would have been enough. Sam would have known about comfort gained from a fresh mouth and a body washed of dried sweat. The shower would have been turned on and the water temperature adjusted. Clean clothes set out. Sheet on the cot changed and the sleeping bag exchanged with the one from Sam's cot. Toothbrush with toothpaste on it would be on the sink next to a swish of mouthwash poured into a cup. Toast and juice would have been waiting for him either at the table or next to his bed.

"Dean?"

Clenching his jaw, he shoved to his feet and wobbled the three steps it took to get to the door. Kyle moved back as Dean grabbed hold of the doorframe and held to it with two, white-knuckled fists.

"Um, you ok?" Kyle asked. "Need a hand?"

His leg would not bear his weight and he held his foot off the floor. Balancing on one foot made him dizzy and the floor started to sway and heave. Kyle took one look at his pale, sweaty face, and slipped an arm around his waist.

"It's okay.” Kyle let him drape an arm around his shoulders and they hopped away from the wall. "Not so bad, huh?"

Next time, he was just gonna piss in a coffee can.

He actually felt better leaving the bathroom. He tried to remember when he'd last showered or shaved but trying to think gave him a headache so he gave up. He'd washed his face and changed his shirt and was thinking about asking Kyle to make him some toast. He was making his way back to the sofa when the front door opened, startling him so badly, he lost his hard-fought battle to keep his balance and remain upright. He stumbled, reaching out for support and falling hard to his knees when his hands groped air.

"Joe?" he pushed his palms off the floor and rocked his ass back onto his heels. "What the fuck are you doing here?" kneeling on the floor was not a good idea. The weight of his ass on his calves caused black dots to cloud his vision and the room blurred.

"Dean, are you ok?"

"Where's Sam?" he ducked and leaned and twisted, trying to see behind Joe. Sam would have been the first person through the door if he'd been back. "Is he ok?"

"Jack and Sam are still hunting….."

"You left them out there alone?"

"They are experienced hunters, right?"

"So what?"  he barked.  Kyle came over to help him to his feet. "Do they know what it is?" his breath was hard to catch and once on his feet, he couldn't straighten up. Shit, never should have sat on his knees. Stupid Dean, stupid, stupid, stupid. He swallowed hard, scolding himself wasn't going to help him get on top of the pain threatening to pitch him into blackness.

"Sam's pretty sure it's a Wendigo, should find its lair today. How you doing? Gotta say, you don't look so good. Rough day yesterday, huh?"

"The worst." deep breaths, get a handle on the pain and think straight.

"You take any of your meds?"

"Just the antibiotic." he collapsed onto the sofa. He wanted to lie down, but if he did that, he would pass out and he needed to think. He didn't ask why the Sheriff had returned and left the other two men out in the woods; he would get that story from Sam. "Gimme the number of the phone so I can call him." he wiped his face on the sleeve of his t-shirt, sweat cooling and making him shiver.

"Call who?" Joe asked as Kyle handed him a glass of water. Dean took it, kid wasn't so bad after all.  He was pleased to see his hand was trembling, not outright shaking.

"Sam." Dean turned from Kyle to look at the Sheriff. "What?" dread began to curl through his belly. All pain and discomfort fled, leaving him cold. "What….." he saw the phone clipped onto the Sheriff's belt. "You didn't leave them the phone?"

"They'll be back tomorrow." Joe began, only to fall silent and take a step back when Dean rose to his feet, cup of water spilling on the sofa.

"You left them out there alone, with no way to call for help should something go wrong?" Dean's face transformed from exhaustion to fury. He stalked the Sheriff backwards around the sofa. "What the hell is the matter with you? You don't just leave people you're hunting with out there!"

"Jack was confident they would get it tonight and be back in the morning."

"Jack? Jack was confident?" Dean repeated. "What did Sam say?"

"Now Dean, listen…."

"You didn't…..doesn't he know…Jesus Christ! You left without even bothering to tell Sam you were leaving?"

"Kid was asleep. I wanted to leave at first light."

"I don't believe this!" Dean limped away, striking the Sheriff would probably get him arrested. "How the hell could you do that? Why? Why would you?" Joe would have a fight on his hands if he tried. Dean might be angry, working his way up to ballistic, but he wasn't yet beyond the ability to control his actions. He might come out the victor in a physical fight with Joe, but it would cost him too much strength and energy. He needed everything he had to hold it together.

"I felt it was in my best interest to return…" Joe began calmly, but Dean was furious and he already knew why the Sheriff had returned.

"Your best interest should be to this town, the people in it and stopping what is killing them. Your son is fine and Jack knows that. You didn't need to come running home to hold his hand."

"My son is my first priority. My job is to protect him."

"Protect him from what? ME? Are you fuckking kidding me? Jack is supposed to be your trusted friend! He never would have left me here alone with a kid if I was any danger to him. He would have told you that. Hell, when will I learn?" he made his way towards his room, leg buckling twice, but able to stay on his feet by grabbing the wall. "You are unbelievable. You twist and taunt and guilt trip Sam into going with you and then you fucking leave him out there!"

"He's not alone. Jack….."

"What the hell good is he? Christ!" he slammed into his room, no sign of exhaustion or weakness remained. Joe followed, stopping in the doorway to watch Dean get dressed.

"What are you doing?" he hadn't believed Sam when he'd said Dean would go after him. "You can't possibly be serious about going after him?"

"What else am I supposed to do? Leave him there?"

"Trust him." Joe said simply. "Trust him to get the job done."

"I do trust him." Dean pulled a long sleeved shirt over his head and sat down on the cot to re-wrap the bandage on his leg as tight as he dared. The stitches were pulsating from his march about the cabin and it was only going to get worse. He pulled on a pair of jeans, then his boots. "It's Jack I don't trust. You don't hunt a Wendigo or the unknown by yourself unless you're stupid and suicidal. Sam is neither. He's not going to stay out there with Jack alone."

"He knows Jack a hell of a lot better than he knows me, he was willing to go with us and stay when there were three of us. Why is it different now?"

"Cause you took the phone." Dean pushed past him and went after Kyle. "He isn't going to be content to leave me here with no way of contacting me." he wouldn't need to pack much, he kept a bag in the trunk of the car that would have everything he'd need. "Kid, where are the pills Sam left with you?"

"The antibiotic?"

Dean hesitated. He'd need the pain med if he was going to be hiking through the freaking woods. Yeah, they knocked him on his ass, but if he wanted to, _really wanted to_ , he could push that particular side effect aside and function fairly normally.

"Both." he took several bottles of water from the fridge. "Where are they?" he hadn't asked before because he'd had no intention of taking them while Sam was hunting.

"You can't seriously believe I'm going to tell you." the Sheriff barked out in disbelief. "Dean, be reasonable, you can barely walk, that leg isn't going to hold up to what you're about to put it through." he said patiently. "You can't go out there…..if you're so sure Sam will come back, stay and let him find you here."

"I meant the pills. I'm going and there's nothing you can do to stop me." he took the pills from Kyle and put them in the pocket of his jacket.

"You don't even know where they are, you…..won't be able to find them and I'm not going to help you."

"I don't need your help." he snarled. "I know Sam. He may have left, but he always leaves a way for me to find him, now get the hell out of my way."

"I'm not letting you go out there."

"Just what the hell's your problem?" Dean demanded. "You left him out there! What the hell did you expect to happen? He's gonna come back cause he knows I'll go after him."

"Fine, yes, then let him come back. Stay here and let him come to you."

"How long did it take you to hike back to the truck? Huh Joe? Couple hours? Whatever is out there, and trust me, it's an IT, isn't stupid. It knows three people no longer hunt it and it figures it can take on two. It'll attack now, while they walk out. Sam's been up against a Wendigo a time or two before but Jack hasn't."

"And you think, in your condition, you'll be able to stop it?"

"No." he picked up his backpack. The rest was in the car. "But I'll have his back. Now, move."


	8. Chapter 8

It wasn't until Dean parked the car and walked around to the trunk to load duffel with weapons that he allowed himself to succumb to the overwhelming dizziness that had stalked him since walking out of the cabin. Even both hands braced against the car's trunk weren't enough to keep him from sliding to a heap on the ground, shoulder propped against the tire.

Damn.

He eased off his hip to his ass and pulled his knees close to his chest. He’d sit until he had his breathing under control, then eat some crackers and take the pain meds with some water before hiking out. What harm could sitting for half an hour or so do? He would have taken the meds at the cabin, but knew he wouldn't have been able to drive afterwards. It would be hard enough fighting off the drowsiness and effects of the medication on foot, he knew he couldn't have done so while driving.

He laid his head back against the car and stretched his bum leg out. Son-of-a-bitch was determined to give him fits. He was hoping a simple walk through the woods wouldn't tear too many stitches lose or do further damage and require a hospital stay to recover from surgery.  He shuddered at the thought of rehab.

Regardless, Sam was going to kill him. This time, there'd be no heated argument where Sam would be appeased with an emotional outburst from Dean. Once he had Dean away from Jack, tucked up into a motel room and was assured Dean was well on his way to a full recovery, Sam would kick his ass.

Hell, had he not let the kid go in the first place, he would have saved himself a lot of pain, both now and later when Sam had him at his mercy. Worst of it was, Sam's ass kicking wouldn't just be physical. He would hover and fuss and drive Dean up the wall with his incessant need to take care of him. He would pet and pander and pamper to the point Dean would crawl out of the motel and down the street to get away from him.

And yes, he had let him go.  He could have stopped him had he wanted to. Sam wasn't the only Winchester who had manipulation down to an art.

But here he was, about to torture himself because he couldn't get out of his head what the doctor had said. What if seeing him in pain or in danger was the cause of Sam's recent meltdowns and freak-out's? What the hell was that all about and what the hell was Dean supposed to do about it?

Joe had left without a word to return to be with his son because of something that had happened. Something Sam didn't know about. Sam wouldn't take that well, not at all. For all Sam knew, Dean could have hurt himself or thrown a reaction to the medicine and been sick enough to require medical attention. He would think the worst. That Dean talked in his sleep, revealing a range of disturbing topics that scared Kyle would never cross his mind. What the hell would Sam be thinking and what would it do to him?

Dean had seen the headache that had forced them off the road a week ago; the headache that had left Sam in bed, pale and shaking and asking Dean for help, the headache that wasn't the sole result of Sam being forced to drive in the rain. He'd witnessed the meltdown in the woods, Sam's first ever dead faint at the sight of blood and the freak-out at the ER. He may have spent the last three days senseless but he'd discovered the bottle of Excedrin migraine aspirin on the table between the beds. That meant Sam had had more headaches while Dean had been down. What else could still happen is what had Dean willing to life and limb to reach his brother.

Internal stitches, bone deep pain, risk of blood loss and probable surgery be damned, Sam would be freaking out and nothing was going to keep Dean from getting to him. He might have told Joe that he was going after Sam because he didn't trust Jack to make sure he got his brother back, but that was bullshit. He was going after Sam, regardless of further injury to himself, because he couldn't stand the thought of Sam being worried and scared and alone. Sam would expect Dean to come after him and be hell-bent on reaching Dean before he could get too far into the woods. He wouldn't be focused on the hunt and that spelled disaster.

Crackers finished, he pushed to his feet, collected his duffel, backpack, and the map Sam had left and set out.

***000***

"Stan? I need you to round up your crew and meet me at the entrance trail by the old oak, you know the place, about five miles from Jack's hunting cabin. Yeah, right...great, thanks...yeah, gonna need the medics, far as I know, one injured, leg injury...no...Jack's with them, yeah, guessing they got it, bear I heard...ok, see ya." Joe hung up. No need to tell the truth, no one would believe him anyway.  He just wanted any help he could gather. "Kyle, either go home or go back to the station."

"You're going after them?"

"Yeah, stupid asses or not, they are out there to help this town, I can't just leave them out there alone."

"Good, cause I don't see how Dean's gonna make it. He really wasn't doing so good Dad….I dunno….."

"He'll make it." Joe said confidently. "He's stronger than you think and a lot of his problem yesterday was emotional. Let's go."

***000***

Hand gun tucked in the waist of his jeans, shot gun in one hand, flare gun in his pocket, knife on his belt, Sam set a fast pace down the mountain. He pretty much figured it, whatever it was, would attack as he and Jack walked out of the hills. They may not have seen it yet, but it was out there and it knew they were as well. It was odd that it had let Joe go, but Sam wasn't going to waste any time pondering that. He was prepared for whatever came at them and he wasn't going to let it stop him from getting to where he wanted to be.

Back to his brother, the one he was stilled pissed at. But anger wasn't what had him all but running down the mountain. No, that would be fear. Fear so strong, it made him scared. Scared Dean would hurt himself by coming after him, scared that Dean was alone and vulnerable to an attack, scared Dean would get hurt and be lost in the woods, scared the creature would drag him off where Sam couldn't find him, scared that Dean was so pissed at him he wouldn't come at all.

No, that fear was irrational, cause he knew, no matter what, Dean would come for him. Of that, there was no doubt. And there was no way Sam would be able to get back in time to stop him from coming. If he were lucky, he would meet up with Dean closer to the car than camp.

He had seriously thought about not leaving the map, not because he didn't want Dean with him on this hunt, but because of the very situation he found himself in; Dean walking on that leg, tearing the stitches and maybe muscle and tissue and tendons and possibly requiring surgery to repair the damage. Bleeding out, on a trail in the woods, alone…..with a creature that hunted humans.

Sam winced, swallowing back bile as his stomach began to plot its revolt. As long as Dean was following Sam's map, Sam had a damn good chance of finding him. It's why he had left the map. Dean would always attempt to find his brother, no matter what that brother had done, because it's what he'd spent his life doing.

Looking out for Sam is what Dean did.

" _Go ahead, say it." Sam ordered through gritted teeth and clenched fists. "This is all about me leaving you to go with Ruby. You leaving Lisa. You still, in some way, blame me for Azazel being able to let out an army of demons, blame me for freeing Lucifer. Still feel it's my fault you sold your soul, my fault we both went to hell ….."_

" _Forgiveness is when you don't throw a person’s past mistakes in their face." Dean said quietly. Sam winced, the look on his brothers face made him curse himself inwardly, Christ, would he ever learn? He didn't say or do things to hurt his brother, why did it always come out that way? "I don't hold you responsible for the way my life turned out Sam. I said I forgave you and I meant it. You want to judge me, fine. You want to be mad at me, hold shit against me and blame me for this entire fight, go ahead, I'll find a way to handle it. But if you're going to stand there and say to my face I think any of those things, I will call you a liar."_

Sam sighed, wondering when, if ever, he was going to be able to let go of that awful fight. His actions were never meant to hurt Dean. All he wanted to do was help him, get him to talk, share what was bothering him, make him let Sam close, let him know it was ok to lean on Sam for a while, that Sam could handle it.

He rubbed at his forehead, feeling himself begin to shake. The headache that four aspirin had forced into submission the previous night was rearing its ugly head. Christ, enough with these damn headaches. He dug in his pocket for the bottle of Excedrin migraine aspirin.

Least the headaches he'd had while Dean had been sleeping after coming home from the ER had gone unnoticed by his brother. While they weren't exactly debilitating, they were bad enough to force him to seek aspirin and lay down. Soon as he got on the road and settled into a safe motel room with Dean as comfortable as Sam could make him, he'd have to do research on migraines.

With Dean possibly being laid up for the next month or so, the last thing Sam needed was to develop migraines. Yes, there was medication for them but they really didn't have the money for prescriptions. True, over the years, they'd encountered a doctor or two who would happily repay them by giving them medication but he was reluctant to leave a trail by contacting anyone from their past.

Damn Joe. Damn Kyle. Fuck this whole damned town. What the hell had the kid said to his dad to make him pack up and leave at the crack of dawn to return to be with him? Kyle had said Dean had been sick the previous day but hadn't made it sound like it had been anything serious and Sam had attributed it to Dean drinking the iced tea.

The kid hadn't sounded scared or intimidated by being with Dean. So, what then? And why hadn't either father or son bothered to tell Sam what had upset them? What was wrong with Dean? What were they not telling him? Was that why Joe had taken the phone? So Dean couldn't call him? Ask him to come back? Were they afraid Sam would give up the hunt to return to Dean if he knew something had happened to his brother? What the fuck was going on? What if Dean wasn't capable of coming after him? Wouldn't Jack have said so if that was the case? Wouldn't he have told Sam if something was wrong with his brother?

That was what had Sam running out of the woods, determined to get to his brother. He didn't know what scared him more; Dean hiking into the woods after him with internal stitches in his leg while under the influence of strong pain killers or Dean not being able to come at all. Maybe it was something as common as a reaction to the medication and Joe had returned to help Kyle take him back to the ER. Or maybe it was something far worse. Had he at all been in his right mind, it might have occurred to him to talk to Jack and find out what he knew.

He stumbled, feeling light-headed and he had to remind himself to breathe. His chest felt tight as he forced himself to walk on, Jack trailing behind him. Sam hadn't wanted to leave Jack out in the woods by himself, but he would have. He hadn't asked Jack to return with him but hadn't objected when he had packed up and matched Sam's pace.

Jack was a hunter and in some capacity, a friend. Sam would have felt awful had something happened to him but he'd be able to live with it. Living with the guilt of something happening to Dean was something he couldn't ever go through again, this time, it'd kill him.

"Sam? Hey man, you ok?" Jack came up beside him when he slumped against a tree. He'd been following along behind Sam, stewing in anger over Sam's attitude and punch, gradually realizing Sam's pace had slowed and his gait had become uneven. He'd stumbled several times, and Jack could now see he was pale and panting. "Sam? Sam? What's with you? Huh?" he recalled the last time they'd been out in the woods. "You allergic to something out here maybe? Here, drink some water?"

Sam blindly reached for the offered bottle and Jack had to grab his flailing hand, guide the bottle into it and wrap his fingers around Sam's hand so he'd hold the bottle.

"Okay, man, here sit your ass down." Jack eased his descent to the ground, letting him flinch away but not moving back. "You got asthma or something? Put your head down and breathe, Jesus man."

"No." he fumbled with the bottle of aspirin in his hand, dropped it, recovered it and dropped it. "Dammit." he whispered against tears of frustration and pain. He couldn't do this, couldn't let the headache become dominant and prevent him from functioning. He **had** to get to Dean before he either hurt himself or was attacked.

"Here, let go, I've got it." Jack pushed Sam's hand that held the water bottle towards his mouth. "Drink, just sip it." he pried the bottle of aspirin from Sam's tense grip. "Migraine meds? You suffer from migraines? Guess I shouldn't be surprised, what with the stress and tension in your life, how many?"

"Not me." his tongue was thick and Jack had gone out of focus. "Dean." the image of Jack floated and wavered. Sam closed his eyes against the shimmering dizziness brought on by the motion.

"Dean what? Hey, now what are you doing? Drink the water Sam, don't pour it out!" he watched as Sam poured water onto the sleeve of his jacket and buried his face against the wet fabric. "How many?" he repeated, shaking two aspirin from the bottle.

"Four." he mumbled. Maybe cold water against his face was a placebo but he didn't care enough to figure it out. All he knew was it felt good. "Pills are Dean's." he lifted his head to take the proffered aspirin. "Thanks."

"Four?"  he shook out two more and handed them over. "Sam, I don't know what's going on, but there's no need to give yourself a migraine because Joe left to go back." maybe now Sam was calm enough to give Jack an opportunity to explain Joe's departure. "Dean's fine. Kyle's fine, it's just Dean….look, you of all people know what kind of life a hunter leads. Kyle's just a kid, hearing some of the shit Dean was spitting out, knocked him off kilter, you know?"

"Dean doesn't talk about hunting to anyone, not even me." Sam argued. "He sure as hell isn't going to go scaring the shit outta a kid by sharing stories."

"He wasn't awake Sam."

Ok, well that made sense then. Sam could recite what Dean had probably revealed. He'd been there, at Dean's side through the nightmares and memories and horrors revisited. Yeah, that would scare anyone.

"Dean is fine." Jack stressed. "The iced tea made him sick, he's ok."

"And on his way here." now on top of his own misery and armed with solid confirmation Dean was able to come after him, it was time to refocus on Dean. He finished the water and tore open the wrapper on a granola bar. He wasn't at all hungry, but best not to take so much aspirin on an empty stomach.

"You truly believe that, don't you?"

Sam uncurled and gained his feet with support from the tree. "Let's go."

***000***

Dean trudged on. Sweat pooled at the small of his back, causing him to shiver. He already shook from exertion and he'd had to put his gun in his pocket and his knife in its sheath or risk shooting or stabbing himself. His hands were slick with sweat and the constant trembling that wracked his body made it impossible to hold the gun or knife steady.

He kept his mind occupied by taking and changing bets about what would happen to him first. Be attacked by some violent man-eating creature, pass out on the path or encounter Sam. Luck was rarely his co-pilot so, collapse on the path and then be attacked by man-eating creature moved to the top of his list.

"Oooh…." he groaned as he rounded the corner of the path and emerged from the trees for there, blocking him from going any further, stood a Wendigo. His choices were few. If it managed to knock him out and drag him off for food, Sam would never find him. So, stand and fight it would be. "Fuck...Me."

He closed his eyes, eased his hand into his pocket for his flare gun, took a deep breath and opened his eyes to confront…nothing. He blinked, where the hell had it gone? He hadn't imagined it, had he? Pain had a way of playing tricks on one's mind and exhaustion was over-riding his ability to fight off the effects of the pain meds but still, he didn't think he was imaging shit.

He rubbed his forehead, reaching for a bottle of water when he saw the flare of fire in the distance, knew it for what it was even before he heard the startled yelling. Wendigo's were killed by fire.  Someone had fired a flare gun.

"SAM!" he yelled. He summoned strength and ran. "SAM!" he burst into the clearing to find his brother sprawled on his back, aiming a second flare at the creature who stood over him, one strong hand grasped around his right ankle and dragging him towards the tree line.

Jack was nowhere in sight.

"SAM!" he fired just as Sam did, hitting the creature from behind at the same time Sam's shot buried itself in its chest. God, if it didn't let go of Sam, he'd go up in flames as well. "SAM!" panic gave him speed a man in his condition shouldn't be able to obtain. "SAM!"

Dropping his backpack and duffel, he raced across the distance separating him from his brother, firing his second shot at the creatures head. It reeled back with a screech, hands flinging up to grab at its head. What kind of freaking Wendigo didn't go down from being shot with four freaking flares?

A rapid succession of shotguns blasts resounded in Dean's ears and finally, the creature was forced backwards, away from Sam. Jack advanced steadily, shooting and reloading with a speed that would have impressed Dean had he the time to admire the other hunter’s skill with the weapon.

Dean stumbled, leg having taken enough abuse and buckling. He went down hard, breath knocked out of him and leaving him senseless. He rolled about on the grass, hand blindly searching for his gun or knife, Sam's frantic shouting over the buzzing in his ears warned him of danger.

And then it was on top of him, hovering over him, the smell of burning flesh and fur breaking through the blackness that was swallowing him. Burning fur? Wendigos didn't have fur. Pain erupted in his stomach, blossomed up through his chest and choked off his breath. Odd, his last thought before he knew no more was, he expected any pain he felt to come from his leg.

"NO!" Sam threw himself to the ground beside an unmoving Dean. Another gun shot by Jack and a head exploded, the burning body finally falling and no longer moving. The creature was dead, their job here was done. Sam's hands searched frantically over his brother, searching for a pulse, praying that it hadn't been at the expense of his brother. "DEAN!"

Jack heard shouting in the distance, hollered back and recognized the sound of Joe's voice hollering instructions to whoever he was with. He heard dogs barking and realized with relief Joe had brought the town's search and rescue unit, a unit prepared to deal with injuries and emergencies.

He had no idea how badly either brother was injured.


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

"I'm looking for my brother, his name is Dean? He was brought in a while ago." Sam tapped his fingers impatiently on the desk while the receptionist looked him up and down before returning to the computer. "HEY!" he slapped his hands against the counter top. "I'm talking to you."

"Last name?" she popped a bubble, arching an eyebrow when Sam remained silent. "Sir?"

"Look, what difference does that make? He should be upstairs by now, been through the ER."

"I didn't ask for an explanation, I asked for his last name."

Yeah, I heard you the first time and I still don't know it, Sam fumed silently, shifting his weight. They'd been so preoccupied since getting new aliases they hadn't sat down and settled on some details, such as what name to use when admitted to the hospital. Admitted, Jesus Christ, what the hell had that Wendigo done to him?

She must have softened at the look of misery on his face and abject terror in his eyes, for she reached out and patted his hand in a way that made the gesture comforting.

"Don't you worry, it'll be ok.  We've only had two admissions today, one was an elderly lady with a broken hip and the other was a male, early thirties with abdominal pain and internal bleeding." she tapped more keys. "Yup, Dean Singer, he's on the fifth floor, room 527."

"Wait, what? Abdominal pain?" Sam flashed an uncertain smile, well aware she had just broken all kinds of hospital rules and privacy acts and god knew what else to give him that information. "Uh, thanks." he headed for the elevator, one hand held against his stomach as he swallowed back bile, feeling the walls close in on him as he fought off a wave of dizziness.

Not now. He couldn't handle another headache now.

Internal bleeding, he got, expected as much what with the leg injury, but abdominal pain? What the hell? Since when? From what? Dean had been fine, well, okay, maybe not fine, but he sure as hell hadn't been in need of a hospital when Sam had left the cabin. Had he? Sam didn't know, he didn't know anything these days. That left the Wendigo attack and Sam had seen the entire fight. At no point had he felt Dean suffered any injury serious enough to require hospitalization. Did he do further damage to his leg?

He knew Dean had been hurt a week ago from being tossed around by two spirits, and he had finally worn his brother down and been allowed to look him over for injuries after the spill over the cliff. Nothing, he'd found nothing, some bruising, but nothing broken or cracked. What the hell had he missed?

Dean had been knocked unconscious during the fight with the Wendigo and as far as Sam knew, he hadn't regained consciousness, so when had it been determined he had abdominal pain?

He came off the elevator to a busy floor, must be medication time for the patients as well as collection of dinner trays. He made his way to the hallway that lead to room 527 and was nearly to the room when a nurse stopped him.

"Hi there, can I help you?" she asked politely. "Do you have a visitors pass?"

"AAh, no, sorry, the girl at the front counter…I must have left it there…sorry, she gave me his room number and I wanted to see him…they just let me go from the ER see, and I haven't heard from him, I don't even know if he's awake or what's wrong….and…." he shrugged. "I'm sorry."

"Who are you here to see?"

"Dean Singer, he's in room 527."

"Oh, yes, yes he is. He's...you go on in, and good luck, he's….a bit of a handful."

"Cranky, huh?"

"Are you by any chance his missing brother?"

"Huh, oh, yeah, that's me, Sam."

"He's been asking about you. We were told you were still in the ER. We asked him if there was anyone else to call, but…guess you're ok if they let you go."

"Yeah, thanks, so…why is he here? I mean, why has he been admitted?"

"Guess downstairs doesn't give out the information….he's only here for a few days so we can monitor his blood levels for hemoglobin, there's no sign of shock, and that's a good thing. The doctor would like to do a liver function test but your brother will have none of it. Anywho….should his hemoglobin levels hold steady, there'll be no need for surgery. He didn't want to stay at all, gave us a hard time, but the Sheriff can be pretty persuasive."

"What? Um…..liver function? Tests? Surgery? Is he ok?" how the hell long had he been asleep in the ER anyway? Obviously long enough for Dean to be subjected to a round of tests and be diagnosed. And Dean hadn't agreed to remain at the hospital because the Sheriff was persuasive. He was waiting for Sam; waiting for his brother to get him out.

"Well, the absence of bleeding increases the patients chances of recovering without surgery and your brother did have some internal bleeding, but still, his liver could still heal on its own, the laceration…."

"Wait, liver? He has a lacerated liver?" sure Sam, you checked for broken bones and cracked ribs, never occurred to you a tear could have occurred in his liver or spleen, way to go. "Isn't the internal bleeding from his leg?"

"Oh no, his leg is fine." she said way too cheerfully. Sam wanted to throttle her. "Not badly, mind you, the bleeding from his liver that is. It could have been a lot worse, only slight internal bleeding from the laceration. He could have needed surgery or bled to death….he had an MRI and a CT, well, he didn't want any tests, but he was here, you know? His blood pressure is low enough the doctor would like to give him a unit or two but he has adamantly refused a transfusion, so, hey, maybe you can talk him into that?"

What was it with the females in this hospital? Sam should be hearing this from Dean's doctor, not from a chatty floor nurse chattering on. Sam was having a hard time following her. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it.  He could hear the all too familiar roaring that always presented itself when he was faced with a situation in which Dean had been hurt. A useless motion, he knew, because the only thing that would alleviate his feeling of weightlessness was to lay eyes on Dean and assure himself he was indeed hale and whole if not completely hearty.

"Luckily, he said he'd been rather inactive this past week, will need to continue being so for the next 12 to 16 weeks, but he's young and healthy and livers are one organ that have the ability to heal themselves…."

Months, she was talking about recovery taking months. "Can I see him now?" Sam interrupted. "And his doctor? I'd like to speak with him."

"Of course, he'll be doing late rounds around nine, visiting hours are over at eight-thirty but you can hang around until you see him. Go on in."

Dean looked up when Sam came to the doorway but didn't enter the room. Yeah, they'd been together this past week but things were still tense between them. Dean hadn't felt good since the first hunt ended with him being taken to the ER and having both internal and external stitches set in his calf. Truth? He hadn't felt good since the botched salt and burn and while he hadn't admitted to anything, Sam knew that.

It was the reason Sam had _ordered_ him to remain behind while he and Jack went on this latest hunt. Dean hadn't had much choice, remaining behind not because Sam had decreed it, but because he was in pain and couldn't walk without a limp and he didn't want to be a burden to the other hunters and distract them with worry over him.

He waited, expecting Sam to start yelling, hands flailing as he proceeded to remind Dean how stupid he was, how careless he could be, how selfish his actions were. He schooled his features into a mask of patronizing tolerance and waited; waited for the scowl, the furrowed brow, the gritted teeth, the silent, heaving intakes of breath through the nose and….nothing.

"You ok?" Sam asked quietly, hand in his jeans pockets, head lowered, eyes on the floor. Dean frowned, not liking the slumped shoulders and hunched back. "Hey?"

"Yeah, Sammy, I'm good, what are you doing here?"

"Where else would I be?"

"Thought maybe you wudda went back to the cabin. Get a shower, catch up on some sleep." he rubbed his eyes. "They told me you were ok, been through the ER."

" _I never once, left your side while you were in the hospital." Sam rubbed his eyes. He couldn't believe where this argument had gone. "Not when we were kids, not when you were electrocuted, not after the car accident that still haunts me whenever I have to drive, not after Alastair, and if you were ever in the hospital while I was at school, had I known, no matter how you felt about our separation, I would have been there, not even Dad would have been able to keep me away." he reached out with one hand, letting it drop to his side when Dean moved away from him. "You can believe what you want, you can think I'm some cold, unfeeling bastard, but don't you dare accept I would ever knowingly leave you alone in the hospital. That's crap."_

"Been in the ER, just left.  Apparently they let me sleep until I woke up."

"I don't really remember coming in. I know I was taken for an MRI and a CT and now I'm here for observation. Joe told me you were fine, that Jack was with you and he wouldn't let me leave. I tried, but, couldn't make it." he paused. "Sorry."

"For what?" he entered the room and pulled a chair close to the bed. "You cudda told me how you were feeling, I know you've been feeling shitty, but I….."

"Yeah, well, who wudda thought?"

"The nurse said they want to give you a transfusion, how come you won't let them?"

"Cause I don't plan on staying here, just waiting for you to pop me out of here, so let's go."

"No." he sat down and leaned forward to lower his forehead into the palms of his hands.

"No?" here it came, the classic Sammy reaction to all that scared the shit out of him.

"Dean, come on, I can sew you up, maybe even set a clean break, but a liver laceration? I haven't talked to the doctor and from the sense I made of what the nurse sprouted off, they are waiting to see if the bleeding has stopped. Internal bleeding Dean! Don't you think that is a serious enough injury to remain here where you can be properly taken care of?"

"I'm not staying here Sam."

"Surgery Dean, yeah, you are." he massaged his temples, feeling the familiar ache start behind his ears. "I haven't found out about any further damage you might have done to your leg yet either."

"I don't need surgery." he looked down at his leg that was packed in ice and elevated on pillows. "Leg's good."

"Says who? It's my understanding they don't know yet and you aren't being cooperative. You won't agree to any liver function tests…"

"They took blood. Let them run tests on that."

"Wow." Sam sat back in the chair. "Just wow, you really are an ass, you know that?" his right leg began to bounce, a sure sign of his agitation. Dean was back to waiting. "This isn't about you and your macho ego." he pushed to his feet to pace around the bed, unable to remain seated any longer. "You're unbelievable, I mean, Christ Dean, haven't you put me through enough?"

Dean stared at him. Put him through? What the hell?

_"I can handle hell and hallucinations and memories and deal with what I did while soulless. I can handle being betrayed and lied to and mislead. What I can't handle...is you leaving."_

Holy shit, was that what all this was about? Sam being scared of Dean leaving him? Finally, after everything Sam had done, did he fear he'd finally managed to push Dean into walking away? Dean remembered the fight as well as Sam did, he'd never once offered reassurance that he wasn't going anywhere.

"There is a tear, there's a strong possibility it will heal on its own. Surgery is a possibility, not definite. I can stay in bed, off my feet as easily wherever we go to hole up as I can here."

"But will you?" Sam shook his head. "Your doctor will be making rounds in an hour or so, let me talk to him."

"Won't matter." Dean insisted. "I'm not getting a transfusion and I'm not staying.

"You don't get to make that decision on you own."

"Since when?"

"Since, well, always, what's the matter with you anyway? You were ok to come in and get stitches…."

"No one expected me to stay. And what the hell do you mean, what's the matter with me? I ain't the one getting headaches and passing out and barfing in the dirt and having freak attacks. When was the last time you actually slept through the night? This can't be over the fight we had last week, I mean, seriously Sammy, what the hell's going on?"

"Don't do that, don't make this about me.  You're the one lying in a hospital bed, hiding shit from me and you _never_ sleep. Hell, you never even go to bed. Just pass out fully dressed on the bed with your jacket as a blanket."

"Least we know why I'm here." he chose to ignore Sam's sarcasm. It was just too much effort to match it.

"No, no I really don't Dean, I mean, yeah I do, but not why. When did you hurt yourself? When you were stupid last week? How long does it take for symptoms from a lacerated liver to appear? Was it from when you fell over the cliff and hurt your leg?"

"Fall? I didn't fall you ass, I was thrown."

"And the difference means what? How long have you been in pain? I know you lost blood when you cut your leg open, but how much have you lost bleeding internally to cause them to want to give you a transfusion?"

"I don't know!" he whined irritably. "Fuck Sam, you doped me up on pain meds when you took me home from the ER."

"Weren't you fine when I left you two days ago? I mean, you stayed behind because of your leg, right?" Sam's voice raised a notch in pitch. "Isn't that the reason Dean? Or did you stay behind for some other reason?" if Dean let him go on that hunt hiding abdominal pain from him, Sam would cripple him.

"Can we not do this now? What are you doing here anyway? Didn't expect you til tomorrow."

"The nurse downstairs told me you had been admitted. Where the hell did you think I'd be after hearing that?"

"I told them not to tell you."

Sam bit his tongue to keep from spitting out everything he wanted to say. Dean was avoiding him and the subject. Sam wanted to be furious, wanted to ream his brother up and down and call him out but common sense took control and Sam remained quiet.

"You didn't think I would notice you were missing?" Dean wasn't asking him to leave. Wasn't picking on him or calling him out. That had to count for something, didn't it? It was all he had to hold onto and he wasn't going to let go. Cause if Dean told him he didn't want him around..."You hungry?" he asked when he was sure he could speak without his voice quivering. "I'll check with the nurse and see what you can have. It's after eight, I doubt you had dinner."

"Sam." he hadn't missed the kid's pale complexion or the red webs that obliterated the white of his eyes. Not for the first time he wondered what the hell was going on with Sam. Joe and Jack and the nurse and the doctor had all assured him Sam was fine. Dean knew they'd come into the ER together, then been separated. That meant Sam had been taken care of. Jack had convinced him Sam had suffered no severe injuries from the Wendigo attack and Dean had been content to let it go.

"No. I'm good." he stood up. "I'm not going to argue or disagree or throw a fit until after I've talked to your doctor and Jack. But then, be prepared, cause I ain't backing down if I feel you're being stupid or stubborn or an ass. I'm going out to get something to eat."

When he returned an hour later, Dean was asleep. Sam stood in the doorway, eying his brother and not for the first time, in awe of how young and small Dean looked when in a hospital bed. Least this time he wasn't hooked up to monitors and there were no tubes up his nose or down his throat, no IV's, no blood pressure clip, no oxygen tubing, no heart leads snaking under the neck of the ridiculously oversized hospital gown.

Maybe it was the gown, or the numerous pillows or the white sheets or the way hospital beds never quite lay flat, whatever it was, Sam hated seeing his brother in the hospital. It made him realize just how vulnerable Dean was and forced him to admit, how at any time, Dean could be taken away from him, this time for good.

He'd met the same nurse in the hallway getting off the elevator a second time. She'd told him the doctor had been in to see Dean who still refused a transfusion and tests but had grudgingly agreed to wait for Sam to return before getting dressed and walking out of the hospital. Dr. Anvil would be back around before ten to speak with Sam.

"Hey." he entered the room and took a seat in the same chair he'd vacated earlier. "Awake?"

"You know I am." he yawned sleepily. "Bring me anything?"

Sam offered him a white Styrofoam cup with a straw. At first Dean thought it was coffee and as much as he loved coffee, he just didn't want any right then. Several blinks later, bleary eyes saw the straw and he was struggled to sit up. Sam knew him so well.

Sam waited to see if he would know what it was, would want it, would take it. If Dean refused it, Sam knew he would cry. It meant Dean was sicker, in more pain and hurt worse than he was admitting.

"Vanilla?" Dean pushed himself up in the bed, at least four pillows behind him. He must have really sweet talked the nurse into allowing him to have so many.

"With malt."

Dean took the milkshake with both hands with such a look of happiness on his face that all Sam could think about was the Goth girl on that TV show when her boss brought her a huge cup of some caffeinated drink and she clasped it in both hands and slurped happily.

"What?" Dean asked, eyes narrowing at the smile that played with his brothers lips, easing the harsh lines of tiredness and worry around his eyes.

"Erhm, nothing, so, it good?" he cleared this throat. No way was he going to share with Dean the vision currently in his head. He didn't think, no he knew, Dean would not like being compared to some gothic forensics chic on a TV show.

"Yeah, thanks."

The doctor chose that moment to enter the room and Sam rose to his feet to shake his hand in greeting. Dean didn't pay them much attention, content to drink his milkshake and give serious thought to at least spending the night. It would make Sam happy and the way he was looking, he'd have a meltdown if Dean argued with him much more. And hell, it was sometime after nine, had to be.

"How's his appetite been? Has it been off? What is his normal diet?"

"Hey! Not a horse, ain't off my feed!" Dean protested, hearing snippets of what they were saying. Didn't look like Sam was going to agree to get him out of there; looked like he'd be submitting to whatever liver function tests they were insistent on performing and whether he wanted it or not, looked like he'd be getting those two units of blood. Great. Well, fine, but they weren't going to get him to be happy about it.

He should get out of bed, find his clothes and walk right out that door.  He'd do it too, if Sammy was trying not to cry. So, ok, the story he would tell was he stayed for Sam's benefit, not because he was dizzy and in pain and weak and nauseous.  Nope, did it all for Sammy.

Next thing he heard was Sam agreeing to have Dean started on IV pain meds. Might not be such a bad idea, the shot he'd been given was wearing off and his leg was sitting up and begging for attention. Fine, Sam wanted to be in charge and make decisions, Dean had no problem with that.

He was once again, falling asleep, his body having given up the fight to remain conscious. A prick in his arm alerted him to the fact he was going to have some help in being unable to stay awake. He lifted heavy eyelids to see an IV port inserted into his left arm. So, not a shot, an IV, looked like he was here to stay for a few days.

He stirred with a murmured protest, reaching to stop the nurse. Where had his milkshake gone? He didn't remember giving up the cup. His hand was caught and held as his arm was pushed to the mattress. Sam didn't even bother to pause in his conversation with the doctor. Simply reached out and stilled his brother’s movements with a simple touch. Dean huffed and gave up completely. Fine, have it Sammy's way, again.

"So, he didn't do any further damage to his leg? Just ripped some stitches lose?" Sam repeated so he was sure he understood. "Wow."

"Just painful." the doctor nodded. "He was lucky. Soon as the test results are back, we'll know more about the laceration, in the meantime..."

"Yeah, go ahead, start the transfusion." was the last thing he heard his brother say.

Dean woke sluggishly, reluctant to leave the last remnants of a pleasant dream. He stirred, moving about the bed, legs stilling when the blankets didn't give. Smiling, he reached out for the warm body he knew, from the weight on the bed, was beside him. He expected to encounter a handful of soft, silky nightie, smooth, warm skin and feel the tickle of hair along his arm. So when his hand gripped stiff denim and his fingers poked against muscle, he frowned, giving the body an experimental shove with the palm of his hand. It didn't budge, not Lisa then.

He squeezed and the muscle beneath his hand flexed and contracted but didn't move away. He tugged but his hand wasn't shoved away. Screwing up his courage, he partially cracked open one eye.

Sammy.

He was in a hospital bed and Sam sat on it next to him, talking quietly with a nurse. Why wasn't Sam in the chair and what the hell was he doing in the hospital? Right, he'd insisted on leaving, but Sammy had not seen things the same way. IV fluids, liquid pain meds and a blood transfusion meant Sam had been the one to get his way, not Dean.

Sam's head was bent, eyes on the hand that was gripping the denim of his jeans at the knee. He seemed content, if not comfortable, but Dean knew Sam wouldn't break the contact with him until he felt the grip ease and the fist relax.

"Look, I have to be ok, don't you get that? I can't...not be..." Sam was saying in that husky voice that betrayed his emotions. "I don't get to be...not ok. I have to be ok so he is, if he thinks I'm not...if he even suspects I'm struggling, he'll... I dunno, it's just...he has to be ok, cause I won't be if anything happens to him. I can't lose him again, it killed me last time and if I hadn't gotten him back when I did, I wouldn't...the world would have ended." he pushed his hands through his hair, interlacing his fingers atop his head to keep his bangs out of his face.

"You mean your world." she corrected gently. "Your world would have ended."

"No." he raised tear-filled eyes to meet hers. " _The_ world...mine ended the day he died."

"He's going to be fine, just needs some rest, plenty of rest." she patted his knee. "He's not going to die, ok? You'll be able to take him home in a couple days."

"I'll go soon." he said huskily. "I don't want him to wake up and think I left him...you know? We've been arguing a lot lately, and I dunno...kinda thinking he might not want to be around me, but I...I need to be with him for a bit longer...if that's ok?"

"Stay as long as you like." she stood up. "You need anything, ring his bell or just pop out to the counter."

Sam nodded. "Thanks." she left and Sam gave in to the urge he'd been fighting all evening. He laid his hand over the fingers grasping his pants leg and gave them a gentle squeeze, fisting the thumb. "You're wrong you know." Sam whispered to his sleeping brother. Eyes on Dean's hand, he didn't notice the barely slit-opened eye. "You have something you'll never lose…..me."

***END***


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